


Houston Chronicles

by JustLookFrightenedAndScuttle



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Aero!Jack, Baker!Bitty, Future Fic, M/M, jack and bitty meet again after breaking up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-01-16 18:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18526831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLookFrightenedAndScuttle/pseuds/JustLookFrightenedAndScuttle
Summary: Jack is traded to the Houston Aeros at the trade deadline 10 years into his career, and five years after Bitty walked out of his life to make a life of his own. It's a couple of weeks later that he spots a shock of familiar blond hair in the crowd.





	1. Parts 1-3

**Author's Note:**

> The first three sections of this fic were in response to prompts, the first from [cyn2k](https://cyn2k.tumblr.com/), the second and third anonymous. The fic is still in progress, and will be updated first on my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/justlookfrightened), with installments posted in groups here every few days.  
> This work is not beta'd, so please let me know if there's something I need to fix.

1

Jack

Jack skated around the net, arms raised in triumph. The goal was his second of the game, his tenth since joining the Aeros three weeks ago. Things were looking up.

So was Jack, grinning at the fans packing the stands, cheering for him, glad he arrived in the middle of season to bolster their team’s playoff hopes.

That was when he caught a glimpse of golden hair.

It was there and gone, and Jack was headed toward the bench to bump gloves with his teammates before skating to center ice to start play again.

For the rest of the game, he tried to get another look. That might be why he managed to make so many shots on goal in the second period. No more went in, but he took the opportunity to search the stands before each faceoff.

He didn’t see the hair again, didn’t have the chance to find out if it was attached to the person he was looking for.

What were the odds? The last time he’d seen Bitty, he was off to take a job in Philadelphia. As far as Jack knew, Bitty had never even been to Texas. But Bitty might be anywhere after five years.

When they came back out to play the third, it wasn’t as easy. That end had become the Falconers defensive zone, so his back was to the stands when they had faceoffs down there. He had one good chance when he chased Jones into the end boards, pushing him up against the glass while he tried to get the puck from between his skates and searched the seats over Jones’ shoulder.

Then he caught the second glimpse: not just honey blond hair this time, but deep chocolate eyes, eyes that were locked on Jack.

Until he saw Jack looking at him. He hopped out of his seat and headed up the aisle.

Fuck.

The puck skittered out and Maxwell snagged it and put a shot on goal.

“Jack! Where’s your head at?” Marcus yelled to him after cleaning up the rebound and leading the charge up ice.

Jack just shook his head and grinned, acknowledging his lapse and promising to do better with one gesture.

The Aeros won the game, their fourth in a row, and no one said any more about Jack’s distraction.

After practice the next day, Jack opened his laptop and did something he hadn’t done since Bitty walked out of his condo in Providence.

He typed “Eric Bittle” into the search bar.

Bitty, it appeared, was now the proprietor of a popular and well-reviewed bakery in Houston. He was active in the local LGBTQ community, with a well-known practice of hiring queer kids who were in need of support. He was known for the creativity in his baked goods, especially, of course, his pies.

In one interview, Bitty talked about how he had created his own family out of his college hockey team and how he didn’t know what he would have done without his teammates. He was simply trying to pay that forward, he said.

None of the interviews mentioned Jack. None of them mentioned that he was the Eric Bittle who had kissed Jack at center ice after Game 7 of the 2016 Stanley Cup Final. None of them mentioned his three years in Providence after that, trying to build a career in the city’s foodie industry.

It had never really worked. Bitty was too well known as Jack Zimmermann’s boyfriend, something Jack thought Bitty eventually came to hold against him.

That was something neither of them had foreseen: the way Bitty’s identity became subsumed in Jack’s. It didn’t matter to people that Bitty was captain of the Samwell team his senior year, that he had a baking blog for years. The things that Jack loved most about him – the strength and the courage that brought him out of Georgia, that made him play hockey, that helped him overcome his fear of being checked, combined with an almost irresistible warmth – those things didn’t figure at all in what people knew about him.

To the world, Bitty said the day he left, he was just Jack Zimmermann’s piece of ass.

Jack had asked him if that was such a bad thing to be, and Bitty had walked out.

Jack had five more years in Providence, pretty successful years, too. No more cups, but playoff appearances every year. And once Bitty was out of the picture, Jack found his life on the ice getting easier. Maybe other teams were getting used to the idea of having an out player in the league, maybe it was easier to ignore when there were no pictures of him and Bitty, no images of Bitty in the family box on the Jumbotron.

His life off the ice had become more and more empty, though. Marty retired, and then Thirdy. Tater went off to play in Seattle, and George went to Vegas of all places. Snowy got married and settled down. Without Bitty to push him out the door, Jack … well, he’d become something of a hermit.

He didn’t connect as well with fans, which wasn’t a huge problem, but the new, younger players kept their distance as well. Or maybe he kept his distance from them. It showed in the team’s play, and it wasn’t a huge surprise when management told him Houston wanted him, and the Falconers wanted him to go.

He really had no idea Bitty was in Houston.

Once he knew, the idea of making contact took up residence in his head. Bitty clearly knew he was here. Bitty had come to a hockey game he was playing in.

Maybe he should let Bitty contact him. His phone number hadn’t changed. (Bitty’s had. Jack tried it the night after he saw him at the game.) But maybe Bitty didn’t know that, didn’t want to draw attention by going through the team. NHL teams did their best to keep the boundaries clear between players and fans.

And Jack knew where Bitty’s bakery was. He plugged it into Google maps; it was only a ten minute drive from the hotel where the team was putting him up until he could find a place.

It took a week. A week of wondering what Bitty thought of him, what Bitty wanted, whether Bitty would be happy to see him. Bitty had come to his game, he told himself. Bitty left when he made eye contact, he argued back.

Maybe Bitty had a boyfriend. A husband, even. But the interviews he found didn’t mention anyone.

It was the last off-day of the regular season when Jack finally parked down the block from Bits and Pieces.

He sat in his car, took a deep breath, and rehearsed what he wanted to say one more time.

“I’m sorry I didn’t understand what you needed. I’m glad you found it. Can we be friends?”

That would have to be enough for now.

There was no line, just a kid with one side of his head shaved and the hair on the other side dyed purple behind the counter.

“What can I get for you?” the kid asked.

“Coffee,” Jack said. “Black. And one of those apple mini-pies.”

The kid (Quinn, according to his name tag) rang him up, and as Jack dropped the change from his twenty into the tip jar, he said, “Is your boss around? I know Eric from college.”

The kid grinned.

“You must have played hockey,” he said. “He talks about it all the time. You want me to get him?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Quinn said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Jack had taken a seat at a table by the door when Bitty emerged. He looked like he was steeled for a confrontation when he came through the door, but his face still paled when he saw Jack.

“Black coffee and apple pie,” Bitty said. “I knew it had to be you.”

“You knew I was in Houston,” Jack said. “I saw you at the game.”

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Jack said. “I was glad to see you.”

“You were?”

“I didn’t know you were here,” Jack said. “When I got traded. But after I saw you, I looked you up.”

“That was a week ago.”

“I didn’t know how you would feel about me showing up.”

“That’s fair,” Bitty said. “I’m not sure how I do feel.”

“I have something I want to say,” Jack said. “I’m sorry for the way things ended. I didn’t get what you needed, and I should have.”

“Okay,” Bitty said. “I’m sorry too. I should have tried harder.”

“You did try,” Jack said.

“What do you want now?” Bitty said.

“I was hoping we could be friends.”

Bitty cocked an eyebrow, and the expression was so familiar it made Jack’s chest hurt.

“Why?” Bitty asked. “I figured you’d just forget about me and move on.”

“I could never forget you,” Jack said. “I’ve been missing you for five years.”

“Don’t,” Bitty said. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

“I do,” Jack said. “I mean it. I’d offer to buy you coffee, but …”

“You just bought my coffee?” Bitty said.

“Dinner?” Jack said. “You choose?”

**************************

2

Bitty

Bitty tapped on his neighbors’ door, wondering if he should have just gone home instead.

Maybe he should have just brought Jack home with him. Gotten it over with. Scratched that itch.

“It’s open,” came the call from inside.

“First, honey, you need to lock your door,” Bitty said to the woman sprawled on the sofa in front of a Scrabble board. “Second, I did it. I came home without him. Aren’t you proud of me?”

“Ai, pobrecito, Mandy’s making margaritas. Come in and tell us all about it.”

“I have work in the morning,” Bitty said. “Maybe one? But only one, Jeni.”

“Good boy,” Jeni said. Then she called to the kitchen, “Bring a glass for Eric. He’s going to spill about his boy troubles.”

“Can I have boy troubles if I don’t have a boy? Yet?”

“Of course,” Mandy said, carrying in a pitcher and three glasses. “But you had a date. That’s a start.”

“Not necessarily,” Bitty said. “And it wasn’t a date. It was dinner with an ex.”

“Are you both single?” Jeni asked. “No kids or joint property to deal with? So this differs from a date how?”

The fact was, it was a date. It certainly felt like one. Especially if Eric went by how much time he spent getting ready, making sure he had his favorite slacks and his shirt was ironed and working way too long to make sure his hair would hold its shape in the Houston humidity.

He had the butterflies of a first date, too, but his nerves weren’t of the usual sort. He wasn’t worried about whether his date was going to turn out to be boring, or be less attractive (or a different person) than his online picture. He didn’t have to wonder whether his date would find him at all attractive, or be turned off by his tendency to run on at the mouth, or even react with disbelief when he said he played high-level college hockey.

He and Jack had spent six years together, one way and another, from teammates to Hausmates and friends to boyfriends and lovers. For a good part of that time, Bitty had assumed the trajectory would continue to being fiances and husbands. And during that time, he thought he and Jack really didn’t have much left to learn about one another.

The joke was on him; it was what he learned about himself (and, yes, Jack’s less-than-ideal reaction) that had prompted him to walk away. He found he couldn’t handle being (being seen as?) an extension of someone else, even someone he loved as much as Jack. Once Bitty graduated from Samwell and moved into Jack’s home in Providence, everything in both their lives had revolved around Jack: Jack’s training and game schedule, Jack’s nutrition plan, Jack’s preference for sleeping in a cool (cold) room with the blinds cracked open to let in the morning light.

Sure, Bitty could play his music, as long as it wasn’t bothering Jack; and he could make dessert after dessert that Jack wouldn’t eat, as long he found ways to dispose of them all outside the condo; and he could have a job, as long as his schedule didn’t interfere with him being home when Jack needed (wanted) him there.

That didn’t matter so much, because the only places that wanted to hire him wanted him more because he was Jack Zimmermann’s boyfriend than because he was an award-winning baker or a social media expert.

By the end, all he’d wanted was someone to see him as a complete person all on his own. That’s why he wanted to try a job somewhere else, somewhere where Jack Zimmermann didn’t have such a high profile. Literally. His last job in Providence, Bitty had to pass three billboards with Jack’s face to get there. But when he tried to explain to Jack, Jack couldn’t understand why Bitty wanted to be anything more than “Jack Zimmermann’s piece of ass.”

So no, it wasn’t like a first date, where everything was new and possible, but a little scary. Here the question was, with so much water under the bridge, would it drown any efforts to even be friends again?

Bitty had explained all that to Jeni and Mandy when he came home the day Jack stopped at the bakery. Jack, it appeared, had been hoping for dinner that very night, but there was no way Bitty was ready for that. He’d pleaded plans (to have a couple of Cosmos with his next-door neighbors while watching trashy TV, but Jack didn’t need to know that), and offered the following Tuesday. Jack didn’t have a game that night, but he had one the next day, and Bitty had work Wednesday morning, so he had an excuse to call an early end to the festivities. He also picked the restaurant, going for a hole-in-the-wall Mexican seafood place. El Barco Mariscos didn’t look like much from the outside, situated in a strip mall a few blocks from Bitty’s apartment – a significantly lower-rent district than where the bakery and Jack’s hotel were located – but the prices were fair and the food was heavenly. And there was plenty that would fit Jack’s nutrition plan.

“So, spill,” Mandy said, once the margaritas were poured. “Boy follows you all the way to this swamp from hell – are you engaged yet?”

“I told you, he didn’t follow me here,” Bitty said. “He didn’t even know I _was_ here.”

“But he came to find you as soon as he found out,” Mandy said. “And I looked him up online. He’s not exactly hard to look at.”

“Yeah, but if he was that much of a dick to Eric before?” Jeni said.

Bitty sighed. This where it got complicated, over guacamole and ceviche and grilled snapper and tilapia with diablo sauce. Eric had refrained from having any alcohol, drinking the house-made limonada, so he was clear-eyed and observant when Jack said, “I never knew you were unhappy, Bitty. I thought we were fine, until the day you left.”

And the thing was, Jack meant it.

“I couldn’t get any kind of career going,” Bitty said.

“But you didn’t really need to,” Jack said.

“Yes, I did,” Bitty said. “Not for the money. Just to have something that was mine.”

“Everything that was mine was yours,” Jack said.

Bitty snorted. “Like your Cup win and Calder?” he said. “And fine, no, I didn’t need money to live on. Of course you were more than generous. But it was always yours. You had to give me the money. If you’d gotten tired of me, you could have kicked me to the curb with nothing but the clothes on my back. Or if something happened to you …”

Jack had stared at his plate, organizing his thoughts.

“First,” he finally said, “I wouldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t have abandoned you with nothing, and I think you know me well enough to know that. And if something happened – if I got hit by a bus – my parents would have made sure you were okay. Second, you’re the one who walked out with nothing but the clothes on your back. How is that better?”

“Because it was my choice,” Bitty said. “Look, think of it like this. Your parents are rich. You could have never worked a day in your life, and you know it. Or you could have graduated and gone to grad school and become a history professor, and never had to worry about paying off student loans or whether you could find a tenure-track job. But you didn’t do that. You worked so hard to come back and play hockey. Why?”

“Because that’s what I wanted to do,” Jack said.

“And I would never take that away from you,” Bitty said. “But it’s not like you had to do it. Your parents wouldn’t have minded supporting you.”

“I get what you’re saying, Bits, but wasn’t there a better way that breaking up with me and moving to Philadelphia?”

Jack put his fork down.

“Wait. You don’t have to answer that. I didn’t invite you out to argue or get closure or anything like that. I really just wanted to see you, and find out how you are, and how you got here of all places. I mean, you know how I got here.”

“I honestly think you were offended by Philadelphia because of the Flyers,” Bitty said. “And Gritty. And I went to Philadelphia because someone who knew Mark – my last boss in Providence – was looking for someone to manage a new bakery there, and Mark connected us. I was there for a couple of years, then the owner of that place knew someone who had a place here he wanted to sell. He was willing to buy it for me – I own part of it, and basically pay my share with sweat equity. Maybe in a hundred years or so I can buy him out. But I run the place, and he doesn’t mind me staking the rainbow flag in this corner of the deep south, so things are good.”

“People seem to like it,” Jack said. “The reviews are great.”

“They are,” Bitty agreed. “Really, people should expect more from their food. Anyway, until that day, I never meant to break up with you.”

“You were moving three states away,” Jack said.

“It’s four and a half hours by car,” Bitty said. “And yes, long-distance would suck, but maybe if got myself established I could have moved back to Providence. Or maybe you’d be traded – to Houston, for instance. But you’re right, I wouldn’t have been around to be your personal support staff.”

“My support staff?”

“You know, make your meals, make the bed, do the wash, make sure your car gets its emissions test,” Bitty said. “Keep track of your social calendar. What do you think I did all day between jobs?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “Whatever you wanted. I thought you liked cooking for me.”

“I like cooking,” Bitty said. “And maybe this is wrong of me, but I like the people I cook for to notice that I’ve done it.”

“I noticed,” Jack said. “I liked watching you cook. It helped me relax.”

“I liked that too,” Bitty said.

“I wish you’d said you were unhappy,” Jack said.

“I should’ve,” Bitty said. “And that’s my fault. God knows how much I’ve thought about this. I should’ve told you, but I didn’t want to sound ungrateful, or make things harder for you, until I got so wound up in it that all I could do was try to escape.”

“Escape me?”

Bitty thought Jack might cry.

“No, sweetpea,” Bitty said. “Escape the situation.”

“But I was a big part of the situation,” Jack said.

“So was I,” Bitty said. “And it was unfair of me not to talk to you about it sooner. But also, I wasn’t happy for a while, and you didn’t notice. You can’t say you didn’t take me for granted, Jack.”

“No,” Jack said. “You’re right. I’ve spent five years wondering what I did wrong, and being angry at you for messing up a good thing for both of us. I should have looked you up and asked, I guess. I did try calling … why’d you change your number?”

“Given what happened, I wasn’t comfortable keeping the phone you paid for,” Bitty said.

“Oh,” Jack said. “Right.”

“So,” Bitty said with a brightness he did not feel. “How do you like Houston?”

“It’s good,” Jack said. “Hot. The team’s good.”

“You certainly are playing well,” Bitty said. “You ever hear from Marty these days? Or Thirdy?”

“Not since I left.” Jack said. “I just texted them to let them know. Tater’s in Seattle now.”

“I know,” Bitty said. “I sent him a care package a month or two ago.”

“You two kept in touch?”

“Not very often, but yes,” Bitty said. “He made sure to tell me if you were doing okay until he left the Falcs.”

“He never told me,” Jack said.

“Did you ever ask?”

Jack shook his head and looked down at his plate again.

Shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Bitty didn’t agree to go to dinner to beat Jack up over things he couldn’t change.

“Why would you?” Bitty said, trying to rescue the mood again.

“I should have,” Jack said.

When he relayed all that to Jeni and Mandy, their opinions were split.

“He’s trying,” Mandy said. “He’s sorry he messed up, and he’s here, and he’s hot.”

“He was oblivious to Eric’s needs,” Jeni argued.

“But you know Eric,” Mandy argued. “He’s a people-pleaser. You know he worked damn hard to make sure Jack didn’t know there was anything wrong.”

“What makes you think it would go any better this time?” Jeni said.

“Y’all know I’m right here,” Bitty said. “This is my life, not a telenovela for your entertainment.”

“But this is so much better,” Mandy said.

“So how did you leave it?” Jeni asked.

“We didn’t really,” Bitty said. “Jack looked at me with those big sad blue eyes and said he wanted to try again.”

He’d looked so serious at the time. Jack “Be Better” Zimmermann, who always gave 110 percent and worked harder than God. He’d looked so exactly like the Jack who ran across the campus to kiss Bitty, the Jack who helped Bitty with his French vocabulary and who held him when he was afraid he didn’t have a home to go to. He was the Jack Bitty had fallen in love with years ago and never, ever fallen out of love with.

Bitty had looked back at Jack and said, “Are you sure? Because I’m not the same, Jack. I have a place here, a place to live and a place to work and a community, and none of that is changing.”

“Bitty,” Jack said. “Bits. I don’t ever want to take anything away from you. I mean that.”

“I believe you,” Bitty said. “I believe you mean it. But I’m afraid that if I get close again, you’ll consume me. Or your life will consume mine, I guess.”

“We know better this time,” Jack said. “Both of us.”

“Want to get out of here?” Bitty said. “Go for a walk?”

They’d ended up at a neighborhood park, sitting side by side on the swings. Jack caught Bitty up on his parents; Bitty told Jack that MooMaw had passed eighteen months ago.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I wish I’d known.”

Bitty gathered his nerve, looked at Jack sitting there in the dusky evening, and asked, “Can I kiss you? Just once?”

Bitty paused in his story to take a swig of his margarita.

“So romantic.” Mandy said. “What did he say?”

“He stood up, took me by the hands and pulled me up,” Bitty said. “He said, ‘As many times as you want.’ And I kissed him. And he kissed me.”

Bitty had stepped back after a moment. They seemed to be alone, but they were in public, and Bitty had promised himself he wouldn’t jump into anything too fast. And good Lord, was the chemistry still there. So he put a hand on Jack’s chest, not pushing him away, just creating space.

“You have no idea how much I want you right now,” he said. “But I think we need to be careful, if we want to get this right.”

“Okay,” Jack said, taking Bitty’s hand in both of his. “Let’s get it right.”

Bitty had managed to take a step further back. “When can I see you again? You have a game tomorrow.”

“And then we leave for a game in Seattle,” Jack said. “Friday? We’ll be back late the night before.”

“So you’re seeing him again?” Mandy said. “Another dinner date?”

“He’s coming over,” Bitty said. “I’m making dinner.”

“Oh, Eric, is that wise?” Jeni said. “After everything?”

“I don’t know,” Eric said. “But a wise man once said you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.”

**************************

3

Jack

Jack got out of his ride-share and looked up at Bitty’s building.

Frankly, it wasn’t much to look at. Low-rise, probably five stories. It looked like there was parking underneath and around the back.

He texted Bitty from the front door.

_Downstairs_

The door buzzed at the same time as his phone, and he opened it and headed for the elevator as he read the text.

_I’ll buzz you in. Fourth floor_

When the elevator opened, Jack saw Bitty’s head sticking out from an open door and waving.

“Come in!” Bitty said. “Dinner’s almost ready. And my neighbors were just leaving.”

Two women, one blonde and one brunette, were getting off the couch. Both had wine glasses, and both gave Jack frank, assessing looks.

“This is Mandy,” Bitty said, nodding at the blonde, “and this is Jeni. Y’all, this is Jack. Now skedaddle. I’ll call you later.”

“Be good, Eric,” Jeni said.

“But not too good,” Mandy said, giving Jack a long look.

“Yeah, yeah, see you later,” Eric said, closing the door behind them as they left.

Then he turned to Jack.

“Um, welcome,” he said. “You can see most of it from here. This is the living room area – ” Bitty gestured to the couch, with a coffee table in front of it and a chair at an angle. A small television was mounted on the wall opposite, over a low bookcase “– and this is the dining area.”

The small table with four chairs was essentially in the same room as the couch and TV. It was already set for dinner with plates, cloth napkins, and cutlery. A pitcher of ice water sat between the plates, with a glass at each setting.

“The kitchen is through there,” Bitty said, indicating a wide archway that opened on a small galley-style kitchen, “and the bathroom and bedroom are through there.”

Everything Jack could see was bright and cheerful, from the art on the walls (that was definitely one of Lardo’s paintings over the couch) to the pillows and rugs, and it looked like Bitty had probably spent some time tidying, since Jack didn’t see any of the detritus Bitty used to leave all over the condo in Providence: no shoes under the table, or charger cords trailing over the arm of the couch, or empty mugs on the coffee table.

It felt completely different from Jack’s old condo, with its floor-to-ceiling windows, sleek furniture and blue and gray color scheme.

All together, Bitty’s apartment was probably smaller than the hotel room the Aeros were putting Jack up in for the end of the season. He wouldn’t have time to look for a more permanent place until the summer, assuming the Aeros wanted to keep him.

“It’s nice,” Jack said. “I like what you’ve done with it.”

“I know it’s not much,” Bitty said. “But it’s what I could afford.”

Jack nodded. He’d assumed as much. And it was nice, even if it was smaller than any place Jack had ever lived, not counting his freshman year dorm room. Even so, he could hear the air conditioning laboring to keep up with the humidity outside.

“You want something to drink?” Bitty said. “There’s water on the table, or there’s lemonade or iced tea. Beer if you want it. I just have to plate the salad. The salmon is resting, and I can warm the apples while we eat that.”

“Apples?”

“Baked apples for dessert,” Bitty said.

“No pie?”

“No pie.”

Jack poured himself a glass of water and said, “Wow. Wasn’t expecting that.”

“I didn’t think you’d want any,” Bitty said. “You had some pie the other day at the bakery, and I know how strictly you keep to your nutrition plan. You always used to get mad at me when I offered you pie more than once a week.”

“I don’t think I was that bad,” Jack said. “It was just, you lived there, so there was always pie. Every day, it felt like. And that mini pie I had the other day was the first pie I had in five years. I think I could handle another piece.”

“Sorry,” Bitty said. “Maybe next time? Or come by the bakery this week and have a piece of whatever you want. On me.”

Bitty was laying slices of fruit and avocado on plates, sprinkling them with nuts and drizzling them with dressing.

“You don’t have to,” Jack said.

“Jack, I wouldn’t have let Quinn take your money last time if I knew it was you,” Bitty said.

“I can afford pie and coffee,” Jack said.

“That’s not what this is about,” Bitty said. “Sit, eat.”

The salad – sliced blood oranges, avocados and some other kind of fruit, with nuts for crunch and a light dressing – popped with flavor. Jack liked to think he had gotten better at cooking for himself over the last few years, but nothing he made tasted this good.

“So,” Bitty said, “tell me what you think of the Aeros chances.”

Jack shared his opinions – the Aeros were good, got better with Jack’s arrival (although he didn’t say so in so many words), were a lock for the playoffs, but would need some luck to go all the way. “It’s definitely possible,” Jack said.

Bitty listened attentively, and the questions he asked showed that he’d been an Aeros fan since before the trade.

“You make it to a lot of games?” Jack said. “I saw you at the one, but that was because you were behind the goal.”

Bitty shrugged. “David – my co-owner – has season tickets, but he doesn’t really like hockey that much. Sometimes he uses the tickets to entertain people, but I get to go a lot of the time. I won’t if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Why would it make me uncomfortable?” Jack asked.

“Because you’re uncomfortable now,” Bitty said. “I don’t want to distract you while you’re playing.”

“You wouldn’t do that to the Aeros?” Jack chirped.

“Something like that,” Bitty agreed, but he was smiling.

The hockey talk had carried them through the salads and main course, and Bitty went to the kitchen to pull the apples from the oven.

“I almost wish I did make a pie,” Bitty said. “I was so nervous, and nothing calms me down like rolling out a crust. But these are good; I think you’ll like them.”

“Why are you nervous?” Jack asked.

“Why are you uncomfortable?” Bitty countered.

“I guess I never thought I’d be a guest in your home,” Jack said. “Before, it was always … our home. Then I never thought I’d see you again.”

“You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to,” Bitty said.

“I wanted to,” Jack said. “It’s just weird.”

“Why didn’t you ever want to see me?” Bitty said. “Were you that angry at me?”

“I didn’t think you wanted to see me,” Jack said. “At least at first. Then I didn’t know for sure where you were.”

“But you knew Shitty and Lardo, at least, knew where I was,” Bitty said.

“Not for sure,” Jack said.

“Because you never asked.”

“No,” Jack said. “I didn’t want to put them in the middle or make them feel like they had to choose a side.”

The truth was, he didn’t want to find out they’d choose Bitty if they were pushed.

“I don’t see how you could just watch me leave and never even try to find out what happened to me,” Bitty said. “I guess I thought I meant more to you.”

“Bitty, I loved you,” Jack said. “You’re the one who left.”

“After you basically laughed at me told me I should be happy with what I got when I tried to tell you how I felt,” Bitty said. “Lord, Jack, can we just stop? I don’t want to fight.”

“I don’t want to fight either,” Jack said. “I miss you.”

“But you’re still angry with me for leaving.”

Jack knew that was true. How true, he hadn’t realized until tonight.

“I don’t want to be,” he said. “But I thought things were good, and then you were gone, and I didn’t really get why, and everything was bad. Tater was mad at me. Marty and Thirdy – they felt bad for me, but I think they were really disappointed. Everyone thought it was my fault.”

“Everyone but you,” Bitty said. “Which goes to show how little anyone else knows about other people’s relationships. Neither one of us broke what we had on our own.”

“When you left so easily, it felt like you never loved me,” Jack said. “Like our whole relationship was a lie.”

“Oh, sweetpea, it wasn’t easy to leave,” Bitty said. “And I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you. Ever. But by the end, it felt like I’d lose my whole self if I stayed.”

“Was it so bad?” Jack said. “Living with me? I mean, I don’t mean any disrespect, but my place was nicer than this. And I’m guessing your place in Philly was even smaller.”

“My place in Philly was a room at the YMCA for the first six months,” Bitty said. “Until I could save money for first and last months’ rent and a deposit. And I don’t know that your place was nicer. Bigger, sure. But all I was when I lived there was part of you. I needed room to be myself, and your condo wasn’t big enough for that.”

“It was our condo,” Jack insisted.

“No, it never was that,” Bitty said. “Jack, honey, I loved you and I thought it was enough. Turns out I had to love me, too.”


	2. Parts 4-6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Bitty work their way towards being friends again

4

Bitty

When Bitty finally closed the door behind Jack, he blew out a sigh. It was mostly relief to be alone again, to not have to watch his every word.

But he was also breathing out frustration. Some part of him had been hoping Jack would be so overwhelmed at the sight of him that he’d sling Bitty over his shoulder and carry him off to bed. Whether the sex that followed would be fast and desperate or slow and painstaking — Bitty’s fantasies went both ways. Neither had happened.

What had happened was a lot of talk about hockey in general and the Aeros in particular. That had been fine. Fun, even, and interesting. Jack could still evaluate a team and its players with a clear and critical eye, and he brought insights into what the team had and what it could do going forward that Bitty had never heard from anyone else.

He shouldn’t be surprised; he didn’t really know anyone who spent time on the ice or in the Aeros dressing room on a regular basis. Besides catering a few events where a couple of the players turned up, he’d never met any of them at all. Jack, on the other hand — people said the best players rarely made good coaches, because they couldn’t understand why everyone didn’t just play like they did. Jack might be an exception to that. He had been able to capitalize on the strengths of his teammates and help them improve their weak areas since Bitty met him at Samwell.

Whenever the talk had turned to the past, though, it became clear what different worlds Jack and Bitty had been living in. Jack’s was large, and he was at the center of it. Bitty was there, of course, not far from the center, but occupying a much smaller circle. The rest of Jack’s cricle was filled with hockey and conditioning and teammates and hockey and sponsorships and business meetings and hockey.

Bitty had been reminded of evenings spent with Jack’s parents, when Bob and Jack had gone off on long hockey tangents, and Alicia had cleared her throat and said, “Not everyone here plays hockey.”

It was probably easier for someone who was a movie star and model to get away with that. Or someone who never had been a hockey player.

By the time he moved to Providence, Bitty’s hockey career was over, and he didn’t have a career in the entertainment industry or any other to fall back on. His world, eventually, was just Jack: being Jack’s lover, his cook, his housekeeper, his personal assistant. Also Jack’s money. He kind of felt like he had earned everything Jack spent on him those years, given good value for the money even, and then he felt ashamed. Relationships were not business arrangements, and he was certain Jack didn’t think of theirs in those terms.

If he hadn’t known before, Jack’s insistence tonight that the Providence condo had been theirs, not Jack’s, proved it.

“If you wanted to change anything, you could have,” Jack said. “The furniture or the colors or whatever. I wouldn’t have cared, even if you didn’t ask.”

“But would it ever have occurred to you to ask me if you wanted to change something?” Bitty asked. “Of course not. You’d just go and do it. And what happened when I left? Did you go find a new place?”

Bitty knew he hadn’t.

“No,” Jack said. “I still own it. But it never felt the same after you moved out. You should have at least taken your kitchen stuff.”

“Oh, honey, you bought all that,” Bitty said. “And I didn’t have room for it at first anyway. But of course you didn’t feel like you had to leave. It was your place, whether I was there or not.”

By the time Jack left, with a kiss on Bitty’s cheek and a quick hug, Jack had looked so sad. Bitty had forgotten that Jack’s eyes could look like that, like he knew he could never have what he wanted. He’d remembered Jack’s eyes full of focus and intensity, undone by bliss, laughing and comfortable, even hard and angry as they often were in Bitty’s first year. But he’d never remembered the sadness.

“I can have someone send the stuff from the kitchen if you want it,” Jack said.

“That’s sweet of you to offer,” Bitty said. “But I have what I need here.”

“I guess you do,” Jack said. “It’s been a while, eh?”

The evening hadn’t been a disaster. Bitty held onto that. Jack had enjoyed his food, even if he hadn’t had pie (Why hadn’t Bitty made pie? Did he really think Jack didn’t want it, or was he being passive-aggressive?), they’d had a civil conversation about the team, even their discussion of the past hadn’t turned sharp and heated. It was just … sad.

Jack had helped with the dishes before he left, so Bitty was left at eight o’clock with an empty apartment and nothing to do.

He wandered out to the hallway and tapped on the next door.

“It’s open,” Mandy called.

“What is with you two?” Eric said. “Didn’t your mothers tell you to lock the door?”

“You’re the only one who comes over,” Jeni said. She eyed his empty hands. “And you usually bring pie or cake or something.”

“Sorry — I made individual baked apples for me and Jack, and we ate them both,” Bitty said. “Next time?”

“So the hockey dreamboat made it through dessert and yet you’re here and not making sweet, sweet love just on the other side of that wall?” Mandy asked. “What happened?”

“He bailed on you?” Jeni said. “Ate and ran? Or you stood up to him and kicked him out on that massive ass?”

“Neither,” Bitty said. “We ate and we talked. He liked the food. We talked about the Aeros. We talked about what happened to us.”

Bitty sank onto the end of the couch.

“Wine?” Mandy said.

“Please,” Bitty said.

“So what did he have to say for himself?” Jeni said. “Did he apologize?”

“No,” Bitty said. “Not exactly. He’s still angry that I walked out on him when he didn’t realize there was a problem.”

“Dude,” Jeni said. “He didn’t think it was a problem that he was keeping you like a 1950s housewife?”

“If I was his wife, I would have had some status in the household,” Bitty said. “Besides being just a hanger-on. But the thing is, he didn’t even realize that’s what my life was like. He figured I was just sitting around and eating bonbons, enjoying the good life, I guess.”

“Eating pie, more likely,” Mandy said.

“He was sad I didn’t make pie,” Bitty said. “After all those years of complaining about it.”

“We’ve never complained about your pie,” Mandy said.

“Fine,” Bitty said. “I’ll bring you one tomorrow.”

“So are you seeing him again?” Jeni asked.

“Sure,” Bitty said. “On the ice. Henry said I could use the tickets Tuesday, and Jack said it wouldn’t make him uncomfortable if I went to games.”

“And off the ice?” Mandy said. “You guys planning a third date?”

“Lord, Mandy, I think our third date was somewhere around 10 years ago. Probably for coffee before either one of us knew we were dating.”

**************************

5

Jack

“What’d you do last night?”

Foxy was gearing up for morning skate, still putting on pads while Jack tied his skates.

“I thought I heard you were going somewhere.”

How had he heard that?

“Marcus said he invited you out and you said you were busy,” Fox explained at Jack’s inquiring eyebrow. “Look, you don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want, and it’s not like you’re a rookie, but maybe you should spend a little time with the team? Outside of games and practice and official events? Give guys the idea you like them, or at least don’t hate them.”

“I don’t hate Marcus,” Jack said. Like that was the most important part of Foxy’s line of questioning.

Fuck. It had been so long since Jack had to play on a team where he wasn’t the captain. Was he giving off a “don’t mess with me” vibe? He knew it was important to make an effort, and he thought he and Marcus – only about five years younger than him, and the oldest guy on the team who was single – had been getting along.

And when he was a captain, was he overbearing like this? Maybe not about the social stuff – Jack always left that to his As.

At 27, Gilbert Fox was barely older than Jack when he first got the A with the Falconers, but he had years more NHL experience than Jack had at that point. He seemed to be a good captain. The team liked him and respected him, and Jack hadn’t felt unwelcome in the dressing room. It wasn’t Foxy’s fault he was nearly a decade younger than Jack. He was trying to do his job, and Jack owed him answer. Just maybe not a complete one.

“I was having dinner with a friend,” Jack said. “A guy I know from college who also ended up in Houston.”

He didn’t know why he was so reluctant to say it was his ex, so reluctant to say it was Bitty. Certainly Fox would know who Bitty was; he probably found a video of the kiss after the 2016 Cup presentation and watched it once he found out Jack was coming to the Aeros, if he hadn’t seen it on TV when it happened.

Jack was certain it was better not to say he was home well before 9 p.m. and would have had plenty of time to join Marcus at whatever watering hole he was gathering his teammates at. But sharing dinner with Bitty – eating a dinner cooked by Bitty, in Bitty’s home, which was not Jack’s home – left him feeling exhausted.

“I don’t know when I got so old,” Jack said, aiming for sheepish. “But dinner at a friend’s place is more my speed these days.”

“No worries,” Foxy said. “Deborah and I are having a little dinner thing tomorrow – I’ll grill, but not enough people to call it a barbecue, eh?”

Well, Jack had walked into that.

“Sounds good,” Jack said. “What can I bring?”

“You could bring your friend if you want,” Foxy said.

His tone was neutral, but Jack wondered if he was fishing for more information. To the best of his knowledge, no one else on the team was out, although Jack didn’t recall ever having any significant problems with the Aeros either. The only time anyone had brought it up after the trade was the GM, who said, “Don’t worry about the LGBTQ thing. There’s a community in Houston, and the team will be fine.”

Jack wasn’t sure why he mentioned the community. It wasn’t like he’d be picking up guys in clubs. Maybe the GM thought he would? Or maybe he was just saying the guys wouldn’t be shocked? So far, that seemed to be true.

“Maybe another time?” Jack said. “It’s kind of short notice, and this is a guy I hadn’t seen in years.”

“Up to you,” Foxy said. “You should see if he wants to come to a game. Does he like hockey?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “It’s something we bonded over. From talking to him last night, it seems like he’s a fan of the team.”

“Talk to the front office then,” Foxy said, as though Jack didn’t have years of experience getting friends and family into games. “They’ll hook you up.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Jack said.

When he returned to his hotel suite – home for the duration of the season – after team lunch, Jack texted Bitty.

_Want to come to the game Tuesday? I can get you tickets._

Bitty didn’t respond immediately, so Jack settled down for his nap.

There was a return text when he woke up.

_Can I take a rain check? I already have Henry’s tickets for Tuesday. I was gonna bring Quinn – I’ll make a hockey fan of him if it’s the last thing I do!_

Jack tried to talk himself out of being disappointed; so what if Bitty didn’t accept his offer? He’d still be at the game. And he asked for a raincheck; that was another game he would be at. He wasn’t avoiding Jack. He just already had plans. It wasn’t like he couldn’t stand being in the same arena as Jack.

Jack wondered if Bitty was feeling as … not sore. Tender, maybe? … as he was, like he was afraid of making an old injury hurt again. The only way to recover, Jack knew, was to go out and play and trust the healing.

_We have a game Thursday,_ Jack texted. _Before we leave for a roadie next week. Tell me how many tickets you want, and I’ll get them._

There was another delay

Jack was back at the arena when Bitty responded.

_Would four be too many? There’s a group of kids I want to bring. Well, college students. They hang out at the bakery. BTW, I saw from the calendar that’s Hockey Is For Everyone Night – ok if they come decked out in rainbows?_

_Of course,_ Jack texted back. _It’ll make me look like I have friends._

So Bitty wasn’t bringing a date. Surely by now, after two dinners and a bit of texting back and forth, he would have given some clue if he was dating anyone. Then again, Jack hadn’t asked. Just like he’d never asked what became of Bitty after he’d walked out the door in Providence, just like he’d never realized there was anything wrong until that day.

Bitty hadn’t asked Jack, either, and Jack hadn’t volunteered anything about his dating life. Mostly because it hadn’t occurred to him, because there was nothing to tell.

Jack put it from his mind as he skated out for warm ups. If he wanted to stay in Houston after this season, he had a job to do.

**************************

6 

Bitty

Bitty printed out a photo of Jack from the Aeros web site, and typed “If he comes in, give him anything he wants. And don’t let him pay for it.” underneath it.

He taped the paper behind the counter, under the register where it was only visible to employees.

Quinn almost did a double take.

“He didn’t say he was a professional hockey player,” he said. “I mean, I could see he was built, but …”

“I’ll thank you to keep your eyes in your head, young man,” Bitty said. “Jack’s over 30. Way too old for you.”

“And he tipped me like fourteen dollars last time,” Quinn said. “How’s he going to tip if he can’t pay?”

“I didn’t say he couldn’t tip,” Bitty said. “Just don’t let him pay for the food. I told him he could come in and have anything he wants on me.”

“I’m pretty sure he can afford it,” Quinn said. “Besides, you’re almost always here. Why not just tell him yourself?”

“Because almost always is not always,” Bitty said. “And he’s not above ordering and paying before he asks for me, and if you’re not on the register, he’d get away with it again.”

“Oh,” Quinn said. Then his face wrinkled up in thought. “Do you two have some kind of history?”

“You could say that,” Bitty said.

“Dude, I mean Eric,” Quinn said. “He’s, like, wow.”

“I know,” Eric said. “But that was a long time ago. And did no one ever tell you it’s unprofessional to comment on your boss’ personal life?”

Quinn ignored the statement.

“Did he, like, follow you to Texas? Because it’s honestly not the state I would have chosen to live in,” he said.

“No,” Bitty said. “He was traded, so he didn’t really have a choice. The Aeros wanted his experience, and the Falconers – his old team – are going young, so they wanted the Aeros prospects. I’m pretty sure he didn’t even know I was here.”

“But then he came to find you?” Quinn said. “So he’s romantic, too.”

Bitty snorted.

“If you’re a hockey stick,” he said.

Then he regretted it. Jack was romantic when they were together, when his hockey schedule wasn’t consuming every particle of his being. The fireworks the first Fourth of July, driving through the rain in the middle of the night when Bitty was distressed, the roses that first Valentine’s Day. Then later, the island getaways when the season ended, before real conditioning started, the dates at romantic restaurants all over the country. Jack was romantic, when he remembered.

“That wasn’t fair,” Bitty said. “He could be romantic. But coming here to see me was more a clearing-the-air thing.”

“So it didn’t end well?” Quinn said. “Was it a summer fling that flamed out or something?”

Quinn had been in just that situation last fall.

“Nothing like that,” Bitty said. “We were pretty serious, for a pretty long time, but it just kind of … fell apart. And when I told him I needed space, he took that as a final breakup. The other day when he came in was the first time I’d spoken with him in five years.”

“Well, if it matters, I’m on your side,” Quinn said.

“Because I pay you?” Bitty asked. “Never mind. There’s no need for sides. I don’t know if we’ll ever get close again, but at least now we know we can be in the same room.”

As he said it, Bitty felt a weight in his gut. After Jack left the night before, he realized that it might really be over. For ever. Even after leaving and moving most of a continent away, he’d always sort of been waiting for Jack to give him some sign that he was ready to try again.

After two dinners (and one really good kiss), it was clear that they still had chemistry, still cared about each other, but they’d both been hurt. Bitty was glad to see Jack, glad to know he was healthy and doing well, but he still didn’t know if Jack was up for trying again. Maybe the kiss was the sign? But it hadn’t been repeated, and Jack acknowledged that he was still angry. And Bitty couldn’t do the same thing again; it would have to be a different kind of relationship. Would Jack even want that with him?

“Eric?” Quinn was talking again.

“What? Sorry,” Bitty said. “Woolgathering for a moment.”

“I just said it’s not because you pay me,” Quinn said. “It’s because you take care of me, and everyone else around here, and you deserve support too.”

“Oh, hon, you’re going to make me cry,” Bitty said. “Tell you what. Henry gave me the Aeros tickets for Tuesday. Want to come to the game with me? It’s exciting. I think you’ll like it.”

Bitty went back to the kitchen; he had a couple of cakes to ice for pickup later that day, and he wanted to build up his supply of dough for pie crust in the cooler. He missed it when his phone buzzed with a text from Jack inviting him to Tuesday’s game.

He responded by asking for a rain check.

When he went back to the front of the shop, he found Quinn at a table with friends, all of whom had mugs and plates.

Quinn hopped out of his seat as soon as Bitty emerged.

“Go ahead, sit down,” Bitty said. “You’re allowed breaks, and there’s no one here.”

“Is it true you’re taking Quinn to a hockey game?” Emily asked. She had been a regular almost since Bits and Pieces opened, setting up with her laptop at the corner table and doing class work. She was the one who introduced her to Quinn. “It’s wasted on him.”

“You’re a fan?” Bitty asked.

“I played when I was a kid,” Emily said.

“I may be able to get tickets to another game if you and Alex want to go. We can make Quinn go twice.”

“Can I at least get a beer?” Quinn asked.

“How old are you?” Bitty said.

“Twenty,” Quinn said. “But my birthday’s in a month.”

“Then no.”

“Jack said he could get me tickets for the game Thursday,” Bitty said. “Let me make sure four tickets is okay.”

“Who’re they playing?” Emily asked.

Bitty pulled up the schedule on his phone. “Kings,” he said. “And it’s Hockey is for Everyone Night. I guess they’ll break out the rainbow tape for warm ups.”

“Cool,” Emily said.


	3. Parts 7-9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People start to find out

7

Jack

Jack stripped out of his gear quickly and headed for the shower. Bitty was going to bring his friends down to meet him, and he wanted to be ready.

Not in the dressing room, Bitty said. That might be a bit much for non-athletes, especially since two of them were girls. Young women, really.

But Jack wanted to be ready to step into the hallway the moment the guard knocked.

Jack could only stay a minute, anyway. He was due for the post-game workout with the rest of the team. He knew the conditioning coach wouldn’t make him go too hard – a concession to his advanced age – but he would have to stretch and lift a little bit, fighting the perennial losing battle to keep muscle mass on as the season wound to a close.

So he drank the shake that was left in his locker – definitely protein, plus fluids, electrolytes, God only knew what else – and washed off as quickly as he could before redressing in shorts and a clean T-shirt.

He had just tied his sneakers when the door opened and the guard called his name.

“Zimmermann, some people to see you.”

Jack knew Bitty’s friends had gone all out with the rainbows and the glitter – he saw them watching from the box he’d gotten for them. Given the theme of the night, they’d even appeared on the Jumbotron during one of the TV timeouts.

At the time, no one had known they were Jack’s guests, but chances were at least some of his teammates would pass by on their way to the conditioning room. And that much color and glitter – there really was no missing them.

Behind Quinn (whose hair was still purple) and the two girls, Bitty was almost invisible in an Aeros jersey and black jeans. Jack approached them with a smile, holding out a hand for the first young woman to shake.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Jack.”

“Emily,” the girl said. “This is my girlfriend, Alex.”

Jack shook her hand as well. “Pleased to meet you,” he said.

He nodded to Quinn, who was hanging back for some reason, and tried to ignore the grin that was splitting Bitty’s face. There was a chirp coming, that he knew, but he wasn’t sure about what and he wasn’t going to ask.

“Are you guys hockey fans?” he asked. “Or were you, before Bitty – er, Eric forced it on you?”

Quinn was mouthing “Bitty?” while Emily said, “I used to play. I was a goalie through high school. Girls and boys.”

“Cool,” Jack said. “Want me to see if I can get Sully out here? He might need another minute to be ready.”

“You don’t think he’d mind?”

“No,” Jack said. “He’s always happy to meet other goalies.”

Then he – finally – turned to face Bitty properly. The jersey was Foxy’s number 21, complete with the C on the chest. That just looked wrong to Jack, but he couldn’t expect Bitty to have one of his Aeros jerseys. They’d only been available for a couple of weeks.

Bitty, he saw, was staring at his shoes.

“Oh my God, Jack, you never change,” he said. “Did you buy every pair of those yellow sneakers ever made so you’d have a lifetime supply?”

“That’s right,” Alex said. “Eric said he played with you in college?”

Quinn sniffed behind her, but Bitty just agreed. “And he wore those godawful shoes the whole time I knew him.”

“I like them,” Jack said simply. “Bits, you want me to see if I can get Foxy to sign your jersey, too?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Bitty said.

“It’s no problem,” Jack said. “He’d probably like to meet you guys, too.”

Because if Sulander met Bitty, it would get back to Foxy, and why not just get this over with?

Jack stepped back in the dressing room and took a deep breath.

“Sully! Foxy! You guys got a minute for my friends?”

“Only a minute,” Foxy said. “We need to be on the bus in less than an hour.”

“Like the bus would leave without you, Cap,” Sulander said.

“No need to make the coaches mad,” Foxy said.

“Just for a minute,” Jack said. “I was hoping you could sign my friend’s jersey, Gil. He’s wearing your number. And one of the girls he brought played goalie for like 10 years of youth hockey and wanted to meet you, Raino. Maybe take a selfie?”

“A goalie?” Sully said. “Of course.”

Jack followed Foxy and Sully to the corridor to make introductions.

“Sully, this is Emily – she’s the one who played goalie – and her girlfriend, Alex. And Quinn and my friend Eric. We played in college together.”

Foxy did very well at containing his reaction to Eric’s name. Jack wouldn’t have caught the blink if he wasn’t looking for it.

“You have excellent taste in jerseys,” Foxy said. “Jack said you might want me to sign it?”

“If you don’t mind,” Eric said. “You guys played a good game tonight.”

“Thanks,” Foxy said. “Having Jack has really helped.”

“He was always great to play with,” Eric agreed.

Then there were a series of photos – Eric with Foxy, Emily with Sully, the whole group together – before Foxy said, “It was great to meet you all, but we’re due for conditioning. Maybe you’ll make it to another game?”

“I’d love that!” Emily said, and Eric laughed. “Looks like I have a hockey companion then.”

As soon the door to the conditioning room closed behind them, Foxy turned to Jack.

“Was that who I think it was?” he asked in a low voice.

Jack nodded. “I really hadn’t seen him for five years,” he said. “I didn’t know he was in Houston until a couple weeks after I got here.”

“Is this going to be a distraction?”

“No,” Jack said. “The team comes first.”

********************

8

Bitty

Bitty was up early Friday morning. He always was. Maybe those early figure skating practices and checking practice with Jack had come in handy in his later life.

This time, as he mixed and rolled and baked and frosted, he considered the game the night before. It was the second time in three days he’d watched the Aeros, but Tuesday it was easy to pretend that nothing had changed from earlier in the season. He was in Henry’s seats, with Quinn, who knew next to nothing about hockey. Bitty alternated between leaping to his feet to cheer, rocking forward in his seat to follow the action, and explaining what offsides and icing were and why one hit was legal and the teams played on, and another drew a penalty.

Quinn seemed surprised Bitty had played such a physical (well, “violent” was the term Quinn used) game, let alone excelled at it.

Bitty had explained that Jack had helped him with a fear of checking both years they played together.

“So you dated your captain?” Quinn asked.

“Not exactly,” Bitty said. “We didn’t start dating until he graduated, so he wasn’t my captain anymore. But we were pretty close when we played together.”

“How long were you guys a couple?” Quinn asked.

“Five years,” Bitty said.

“Wow,” Quinn said. “What happened?”

Bitty shrugged. “Dating a professional athlete is harder than you probably think.”

Then the intermission ended, and Bitty turned his attention back to the game.

The Aeros lost in overtime Tuesday, but they got a point, and then Bitty had to explain hockey scoring and standings.

Quinn had Wednesday and Thursday off, so Bitty didn’t see him until his guests gathered at Bits and Pieces for a ride to the arena. Bitty was surprised when they stopped at will-call to see they were sitting in a box. Jack had texted to ask if his friends would like to say hello after the game; the pass to the dressing room corridor was also there.

“So Zimmermann likes to show off?” Quinn asked when Bitty told him where the tickets were.

“Not really,” Bitty said. “He probably just asked for tickets for guests and this is what they gave him.”

The game was fun – Bitty enjoyed watching with Emily, who focused on the goaltenders with the same focus he put on the forwards, and all three of them bounced in their seats to the music and smiled widely and waved when the camera found them in the second period. Bitty felt like a proud – maybe not papa, but godfather or uncle.

He found the way to the bowels of the arena without much trouble – most arenas were pretty similar – and waited while the guard told Jack he had visitors.

When Jack appeared, he looked – well. He looked as good as he ever had, in a form-fitting dry-fit shirt and shorts. Sometimes Bitty was amazed that he had ever walked away, no matter how unfulfilled he felt. Then he saw the ridiculous yellow shoes and couldn’t resist a chirp.

Jack fetched Fox and Sulander, and there were autographs and pictures, and then Jack was gone, off to a quick workout and a plane to Florida.

After Bitty dropped Emily and Alex off, Quinn said, “Zimmermann’s good at hockey, and good looking and all, but you can tell he knows it.”

And that was so far from the Jack Bitty knew – the Jack who couldn’t dress himself, who barely had use for a mirror – that Bitty had to comment.

“That seems a little uncalled for,” he said. “What’s turned you against Jack? Who, I might add, very generously got you a ticket to tonight’s game?”

“He kissed you on national TV and he dumped you!” Quinn said.

“Not really,” Bitty said mildly.

“I saw the clip!” Quinn insisted.

“Well, yes, he did kiss me on national TV, although I was a willing participant, and I could have done without you going looking for that,” Bitty said. “But he didn’t dump me. I told you that it just kind of crumbled. If anyone dumped anyone, it was me dumping him.”

“But everything I read –”

“Don’t believe everything you read, Quinn,” Bitty admonished lightly. God, did he feel old. But really. Neither he nor Jack had ever talked publicly about the end of their relationship, to the best of his knowledge, and he’d tried not to pay attention to whether anyone else took notice of it. “I told you there’s no sides here. And Jack was generous to you and your friends.”

“And you,” Quinn said.

“And me,” Bitty agreed.

“You think he’s trying to get you back?”

“It’s not like that,” Bitty said.

And it wasn’t. Bitty loved Jack. He’d never stopped. He was fairly certain he’d try again with Jack if Jack wanted to, but it wasn’t something he wanted to just fall into this time. The first time, he’d been surprised and shocked and flattered when Jack kissed him, and even though he knew it would be hard (Jack had tried to tell him, even), he never understood what it would be like until he felt his own identity slipping away.

Bitty wasn’t sure how Jack felt. It looked like Jack at least wanted to maintain contact – he didn’t have to invite them down after the game – but he had plenty on his plate right now. Did he want to restart a romantic relationship? Be friends? Friendly acquaintances? Friends with benefits?

No. Not that. Bitty wouldn’t do that to himself, and he didn’t think Jack would either.

But if Bitty and Jack were going to be friends – or at least friendly – Bitty owed Jack a thank you. He hoped Jack hadn’t been put off too much by Quinn’s aloofness.

_Thanks for the tickets,_ he texted once the opening rush was over and his counter help could handle the front of the shop. _And for taking the time to meet my friends. Emily didn’t stop gushing all the way home! Good luck tonight! It’s east coast, so I should be able to watch._

He left his phone in the closet-sized office while he put in another tray of mini-pies and checked on the front.

When he got back, there was a return text.

_I’m glad your friends enjoyed it. Maybe we can get together again when I get back? There’s something I need to talk to you about._

_****************_

9 

Jack

Jack smiled when he pulled his phone from his locker stall after morning skate in Tampa.

He would have been lying if he’d said he was surprised that Bitty texted to thank him for the tickets. In all the time he’d known Bitty, he’d never seen Bitty’s manners fail him. Even when he left the Providence condo the last time, he hadn’t slammed the door behind him.

Having Bitty text him gave him an opening to keep the conversation going, too. He had to, now that Foxy knew that Bitty – the first out NCAA Division I hockey captain and the man Jack had kissed to out himself way back when – was in Houston and was in contact with Jack.

Jack replied, saying how happy was that Bitty’s friends had fun, and asking to see him again.

That kind of sounded like Jack was asking Bitty on a date (which would be fine, if Bitty wanted that, but what if he didn’t?) so he added that there was something they had to talk about.

The answer didn’t come right away – Bitty did run a busy bakery, after all – but when it did, Jack realized his mistake.

_I hope we didn’t cause you any problems last night! Fox and Sulander seemed fine, but I guess you never know. Don’t worry about it. I’ll keep my distance._

Ugh. Of course Bitty thought Jack meant there was a problem, and of course he thought it was him. That was one thing that really hadn’t changed since they’d been together: Bitty was always afraid that there was something wrong, and always sure he was the cause of it.

For a few years, Jack had tried to talk him out of thinking that way, or talk him into therapy so someone else could talk him out of it. It seemed clear (to Jack, at least) that growing up afraid he would be rejected by his family if they knew he was gay had a lot to do with his need to keep everyone happy all the time.

But Jack couldn’t change his mind, and Bitty said he couldn’t afford therapy with the copays his insurance would charge, and wouldn’t let Jack pay for him, and eventually Jack gave up.

_It’s nothing bad, and nothing you did, Jack texted back, falling back onto his practice of simply reassuring Bitty that he had nothing to feel guilty about._

_What is it?_ Bitty asked.

_Foxy figured out who you are …. I mean, I think he watched the clip from 2016. So the rest of the team probably will know soon. And I thought we should talk about what to tell them._

There was another break before Bitty responded.

_Was Fox ok with it?_

Jack, sitting across the table from Fox at lunch, glanced at him before typing, _Sure. He just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be distracted._

_Oh no! I’ll stop distracting you now,_ Bitty said.

_You’re not,_ Jack said. _Just, let’s get coffee or something when I get back._

He slid his phone back into his pocket and looked up to see Fox smirking at him.

“So how’s Eric?”

“Fine,” Jack said. It would be pointless to deny that’s who he was texting. He didn’t really text anyone else. Maybe Shitty, in the evenings, but not while Shitty was at work.

“So he’s not your boyfriend anymore?” Fox asked.

Jack glanced around. It looked like Marcus was the only one close enough to be listening, and he was absorbed in some kind of game on his phone.

He shook his head.

“We broke up after the season ended five years ago,” Jack said. “We didn’t keep in touch.”

“Ouch,” Foxy said. “But I guess if you don’t have kids or anything, you don’t have reason to.”

Jack shrugged. “I mean, I’m pretty sure he knew I was in Providence until I got traded here. I didn’t know he was here until I looked up and saw him in the stands one day.”

“I knew it,” Marcus said, apparently to his phone. Foxy didn’t react, so neither did Jack.

“You two seem to be getting along well enough now,” Foxy said.

“So far,” Jack said. “We’re trying.”

“That’s it?” Foxy said. “Houston’s a big city. Forgive my bluntness, but there are plenty of people to be friends with who you haven’t slept with. Plenty of new people to sleep with, too, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“I’m sure there are,” Jack said. “But I’m a little busy with hockey at the moment.”

“He could probably tell you all about it,” Foxy went on. “He owns that gay bakery, right?”

“He owns a bakery,” Jack said. “He welcomes gay people, including himself, as staff and customers, along with straight people and any other people you can think of. But I don’t think a bakery itself can be gay, eh?”

“You know what I meant,” Foxy said. “Just that he probably knows lots of gay people. He’s cute, too. Probably could date a lot of them. Does he have a boyfriend?”

“Not that I know of,” Jack said. Then he forced himself to smile. “But it’s nice you care so much. I know you weren’t asking for yourself. You and Deborah seem far too happy together.”

“Dude, I’m not trying to get in your business,” Fox said.

“Then stay out of it,” Jack said. “Look, I said it wouldn’t affect my hockey and it won’t. But there isn’t a day of my life for the last twelve years that I haven’t thought about Bitty in some way, starting with when he was a teammate. He was never just a piece on the side or a distraction to me. And, like I said before, he is a fan of the Aeros, so he wants the team to do well. I was thinking about bringing him around to something, let more of the guys meet him, but if this is the way you react when he asks you to sign his sweater –”

“You asked me to sign his sweater,” Foxy said. “And he seems like a nice enough guy, with, as I said, excellent taste in sweaters. I don’t have a thing to say against him, and he is welcome at any Aeros gathering that includes families or significant others. I just want to make sure you have your head on straight. Meeting up with an ex can be a lot for anyone, and trying again when it didn’t work once – I’m not saying it’s doomed, but it can’t be easy.”

“I know that,” Jack said.

“And I’d appreciate you not acting like I’m a homophobic prick as as well,” Fox said. “I don’t know what you went through when you came out, but I’ve heard it was a lot. Don’t blame me for that. I wasn’t even in the league then. And neither I nor anyone else on this team is going to put up with anyone giving you shit because you’re not straight. Clear?”

“Yes,” Jack said.

“Good,” Foxy said. “Now get back to your room and take a nap.”


	4. Parts 10-12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Bitty spend more time together. Bitty meets some of Jack's teammates; Jack meets Dolly, Bitty's truck.

10 

Bitty

Bitty was in the office working out the supply order for the next week when Denise poked her head through the door.

“That Zimmermann dude is here,” she said.

“Okay,” Bitty said. “Did he get his food yet?”

“He didn’t order any,” Denise said. “Just asked for you.”

“Okay,” Bitty said, standing up and brushing his hands down his apron, like he was trying to get the wrinkles out. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

As Denise headed back to the counter, Bitty snagged a mini-pie off the cooling rack and put it on a plate.

“Here,” he said as he came through the swinging door. “Try this.”

“Maple-apple?” Jack said, sniffing as he took the plate.

“Try it,” Bitty said. “You want coffee or tea to go with it?”

“You have a decaf tea? Something herbal maybe?”

“Denise, sugar, can you get Mr. Zimmermann here a chamomile tea?”

“How much do I owe you?” Jack said.

“Not a penny,” Bitty said. “I told you it’s on me.”

“Then I’m just going to put this whole twenty in the tip jar.”

“I’m sure my staff will be thrilled,” Bitty said.

Jack tucked the bill in the jar, and Bitty led the way to a table in the corner.

“Now try that,” Bitty said.

Jack took a bite, and Bitty was gratified to see his eyes widen.

“It’s spicier than I remember,” Jack said. “But really good.”

“There’s a little cardamom in there,” Bitty said. “It deepens the flavor profile. I also do a version with a little ginger, but that’s kind of a more obvious choice.”

“Wow,” Jack said. “Hidden depths of flavor. I like that.”

“You want to talk about something?” Bitty asked.

“Yes, but maybe not here? While you’re at work?”

“You’re not making me less nervous.”

“No,” Jack said. “I know. But there’s nothing to be nervous about. Can we grab a bite when you get off? Whenever that is? Unless you have plans.”

“Well, I started at five this morning,” Bitty said. “Denise is on through closing, but I don’t like to have anyone here alone. Let me see if someone else can come in. Might take a little while.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jack said. “You close in what, two hours? I’ll come back then. Maybe we can go for a walk or something?”

“Sure,” Bitty said. “There’s a decent park down a ways. We can walk over there.”

Bitty went back to his orders. He was just wrapping up when Denise came back in, leaving the door to the front open in case anyone came in.

“I heard what you said,” she said. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine by myself.”

“I’m sure you are,” Bitty said. “But I’ve never left anyone working alone and I’m not going to start now because Jack Zimmermann wants to have a talk.”

“But you stay by yourself all the time,” Denise said. “And what if he wants to get back together?”

“Do all of you know Jack’s my ex?” Bitty asked.

“Quinn said. He doesn’t seem to like the guy much, but that picture you put up doesn’t really do him justice, does it? And you seem okay with him, so go for it, I say.”

“Your advice is noted,” Bitty said. “And anything Jack has to say to me can wait another two hours. I come in and stay by myself because I own the place. I’m not going to put anyone else at risk like that.”

“Since when has anything ever happened?” Denise asked.

“There’s always a first time.”

“Geez, maybe it’s me you don’t trust.”

“Never,” Bitty said. “Quinn, on the other hand, should learn not to spread rumors.”

“Are they rumors if they’re true?”

“What they are is none of y’all’s business. You want to take off early today?”

“Oh, no,” Denise said. “I think I should stay. Just to make sure you’re safe.”

So Denise was still there when Jack turned up and tapped at the door, already locked with the closed sign on display. Bitty opened it to let Jack in, at the same time shooing Denise out.

He could have done without her smirk and, “Have fun, you two!”

“Sorry,” Bitty said, leading the back, where he grabbed the bank deposit pouch and led the way to the back door. “You mind if I go deposit this? The bank isn’t far, but it’s probably better to drive.”

“No, whatever you need to do,” Jack said. Bitty jumped in the cab of his old truck — well, a new old truck since Providence — and waited for Jack to get in the passenger side.

“You have wheels here yet?” he asked.

“A rental,” Jack said. “I think someone is driving my car down next week. It wasn’t really a priority.”

Bitty nodded. Jack rarely wasted time worrying about the details of life, the things that tended to overwhelm Bitty and make his head spin. Enough money meant you didn’t have to worry about that stuff, but Bitty had never stopped, even when he lived with Jack.

“This truck here is named Dolly,” he said. “Coach helped me buy her when I moved down here. She kinda reminds of the truck I drove in high school, although that one was older’n me.”

“Things are okay with your parents?” Jack asked.

Jack had been there for the aftermath of their very public coming out, for his parents’ clumsy attempts to hide how angry they were about being blindsided, the way they tried to cover up their deep discomfort with his “lifestyle,” the phone calls that ended with simultaneous tears and professions of unconditional love.

“Better than they used to be,” Bitty said. “They kind of got used to it.”

Not having Bitty be part of a gay poster couple probably helped too, but he wasn’t going to tell Jack that.

Jack accompanied him to the back, standing back a respectful distance while the day’s take was safely deposited, then followed him back to the truck.

“Can we head back to my car?” Jack said. “I want to grab my camera out of the trunk.”

“Of course,” Bitty said. “Still as into photography as you were?”

“I took a couple of classes,” Jack said. “I mostly shoot natural stuff — plants and wildlife — now.”

“Well, you’re going to see more gators than geese around here. But probably not today.”

********************************

11

Jack

Jack slung his camera strap around his neck and set off after Bitty towards what Bitty promised was a park a couple of blocks over.

He caught up within a stride, and focused on matching his pace to Bitty’s. Bitty might be shorter, but he moved quickly and with purpose.

“You’ve been here like a month?” Bitty said as they walked. “How are you liking it? What do you do when you’re not at the rink?”

“Um, I’ve been hanging out at this cool bakery,” Jack said.

“Today was the second time you’ve been in,” Bitty said. “Believe me, I would have heard from the staff if you’d come in another time.”l

“I played golf a couple of times. Explored a couple of state parks, took some pictures to send to Maman and Papa. They said to say hello, by the way.”

“They must hate me.”

“No, they don’t,” Jack said. “They were confused and upset –”

“Jack, they love you more than anything,” Bitty said. “They’d kill for you. And I know I hurt you, and I know they probably felt betrayed. They were counting on me to be there for you, and I wasn’t.”

“That’s really not their call,” Jack said. “I think they get that.”

Bitty just looked at him.

“It may have taken them a little time to get that,” Jack acknowledged. “Maybe they had to see I wouldn’t self-destruct without you.”

“I knew you would be okay,” Bitty said.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Jack said, aiming for a light tone.

“Jack, look at you,” Bitty said. “Playing your tenth year in the league, aiming for the playoffs for tenth time.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t be able to play hockey,” Jack said.

“No, but if you can play hockey, you can get through anything else,” Bitty said. “Hockey’s always been your life.”

They turned into the park, and Jack was taken back to his last semester at Samwell, when he and Bitty had wandered the campus while he took photos for his class. They hadn’t been dating yet, but Bitty was already the most important person in his life.

Too many of the pictures he took on those rambles were of Bitty, and they ended up figuring significantly in his final portfolio. It was a wonder Lardo hadn’t said anything when he asked her to look it over.

“No,” Jack said, as though there had been no pause. “Hockey maybe used to be my life, and it’s important to me, but it’s not my life.”

He didn’t say, “You were my life, and I’ve been missing you since you left.” Or, “You showed me that there was more to life than hockey.”

Instead he continued the conversation with, “Your employees seem to like you.”

“I think so,” Bitty said. “The baking help I have – they’re only there in the mornings – they’re older, but they’ve really helped me with figuring out what will sell. The ones who work the counter are good kids. I could wish they’d be a little less familiar.”

“How so?”

“You heard Denise when she left,” Bitty said. “She’s got us involved in some grand romance in her head.”

“She knows about us? You told her?”

“Yes and no,” Bitty said. “She knows – Quinn told her. I made the mistake of telling him we had a history, and he went looking. Apparently read some stuff from after we broke up, and came to the conclusion that you dumped me. Which, I mean, seems totally reasonable. Anyway, I told him that wasn’t how it happened, but he still seems to have taken against you.”

“He probably has a crush on you.”

Bitty snorted. “I doubt that very much.”

“The other night, he only had eyes for you,” Jack said. “You’re older, and successful, and you take an interest in him. That’s not even mentioning that you’re just as attractive as you were when you were twenty.”

“Hush, you,” Bitty said, but he was blushing. “God, if you’re right … I’m going to have to be more careful to keep it professional around him, aren’t I?”

Jack shrugged. “I think crushes are pretty common in the mentor/mentee relationship. Both ways.”

“I most definitely am not crushing on Quinn,” Bitty said. “Wait — is that what you think happened with us?”

Jack shrugged.

“Maybe that’s how it started?” he said. “At least a little? But not for five years.”

“What was it you wanted to talk about? Not Quinn,” Bitty said.

“No,” Jack said. “How would you feel about meeting the team?”

“The Aeros? Why do you want me to do that?” Bitty said.

“Because I’m hoping to stick here for a while,” Jack said. “And I think you’re going to be important to me, and I hope I’m going to be important to you. In whatever capacity. And I don’t want to be hiding anything.”

“How do you think the team will take it? You talked to Fox?”

“He’s worried that it’ll be a distraction,” Jack said. “He laid into me when I suggested his problem might be that we were in a same-sex relationship. You know hockey players – not always the most sensitive in their means of expression, but they seem like a good group.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” Jack said.

He paused and fiddled with his camera, stopping to photograph a small lizard on a rock. He turned to see Bitty looking at him, a wistful expression on his face. The sun was behind him, and his hair glowed like a halo.

Jack raised his camera and took a shot.

“Just like old times,” he said.

********************************

12

Bitty

Bitty changed his T-shirt again, to something that wasn’t quite so obviously Aeros green. A muted dark red might be too similar to Samwell colors, but no one but Jack would notice that. Probably.

He added a plaid button down — front left open and sleeves rolled up — on top, to go with pressed khaki shorts and deck shoes.

He might have used a tad more product in his hair than usual, but he needed every fraction of an inch of height he could get.

Marcus Berqvist was six-foot-four, according to the Aeros website. What was it about Jack that made the biggest guys on every team befriend him? It worked out with Tater, but this was a whole new group. And Fox hadn’t been too pleased that he popped back up in Jack’s life.

“Just come to lunch,” Jack had said. “Let them get to know you a little.”

“Do Marcus and Fox like you?” Bitty asked.

“I think so,” Jack said. “They’re probably the two I’m closest to so far.”

“Then what makes you think they’d like me?” Bitty asked. “I’m your ex. Either there was something wrong with me and you dumped me, or I dumped you and broke your heart.”

“They’ll like you because everyone likes you,” Jack said. “And you’re not my ex. Or not just my ex. You’re a former teammate, a friend from college, and a friend again, I hope.”

That had whirled around Bitty’s brain for hours. Not Jack’s ex. A friend from college. A friend again. Was that what Jack wanted? Was that all he wanted?

Because Bitty was pretty sure he wanted more. Every time he saw Jack, it took conscious thought not to reach out and touch him, to take his hand or push his hair off his forehead, the kind of contact that they had once truly taken for granted.

But Jack had talked about how common crushes were in situations like theirs. Did he think Bitty fell for him in college because he was older, a better hockey player, and took an interest? Did he fall for Bitty because he recognized the pining and was flattered – and, Bitty told himself, proud of the hockey player his protege had turned out to be? Was he past that now, and just looking for a friend who wasn’t on the team?

Or was Jack dancing around the idea of getting back together the same way Bitty was? Sometimes his eyes were so sad when he looked at Bitty. If they did try again, how could Bitty make sure it didn’t turn out the same way? Because as much as he wanted Jack, he also wanted himself.

Bitty put a stop to the circling thoughts by calling the bakery. It was a Tuesday, one of his regular days off, but it wasn’t unusual for him to check in. Was it? Maybe something had blown up (preferably not literally) and he could plead a work emergency to get out of lunch with Jack and his two favorite Aeros.

Thelma assured him that everything was under control, so he grabbed his keys and headed for the restaurant.

Fox had suggested a place in trendy West University Place. Bitty figured he could handle one expensive meal. Besides, the owners of Tiny’s No. 5 also owned the Milk and Cookies walk-up bakery, and Bitty wanted to try one of the cookies again. He’d had one once, and it was delicious, but Bitty was hoping to come up with a way to improve on it. Maybe he could make something similar as mini-cookies, to fit the theme of Bits and Pieces, and sell them by the pound?

Jack was waiting at the front of the restaurant, and as soon as Bitty walked in, he led the way to a table in the back where Fox and Bergqvist were already seated. Of course they stood, which only made Bitty feel short, but their handshakes were firm. Marcus’s blue eyes, a shade darker than Jack’s, were kind, Bitty decided. Fox looked openly curious.

“Jack says you own a bakery?” Fox asked.

“I’m part-owner of Bits and Pieces,” Bitty said. “And I run it.”

“I’ve heard of it,” Marcus said. “Little pies, and cupcakes?”

“Yes,” Bitty said. “Our gimmick is to serve small things. So single-serving pies, so everyone can get the kind they want, cupcakes, mini-muffins.”

“Small like you?”

“You could say that,” Bitty said.

“How long has it been open?” Fox said.

“Almost three years,” Bitty said. “I moved here to open it. I was in Philadelphia managing a bakery for someone else before that.”

“Jack said you were on the team with him at Samwell,” Fox said. “And captain after he left.”

“And won the Frozen Four with the team his senior year,” Jack said.

“Yeah? You ever think about going pro?” Marcus asked.

“At my size?” Bitty asked “No. I wasn’t that good.”

“He was wicked fast,” Jack said, “and he had great hands.”

“I wasn’t the one all the scouts were coming to see,” Bitty said. “First it was you, and then it was Whiskey.”

“Connor Whisk,” Jack said to his teammates.

“You played with him too?” Fox asked.

“For two years before I graduated,” Bitty said.

“You still play?” Marcus asked.

“Not too often,” Bitty said. “Most rat hockey and men’s leagues are late at night, and I have to be at work at five in the morning. There’s a couple of teams I fill in on sometimes. And sometimes I’ll get some ice time just to skate – I was a figure skater before I played hockey.”

“Bits only played hockey for three years before going to Samwell,” Jack said, like he was showing off his own progeny.

“But I’ve been baking practically since I could walk,” Bitty said. “I don’t know if y’all are as strict about your diets as Jack is, but I brought you some things to take home.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jack said.

“Maybe not, but I’m glad you did,” Marcus said, peering inside the small bakery box Bitty set next to his plate.

“Sure I did,” Bitty said. “I always smooth my way with baked goods.”

“Bribery will get you everywhere,” Marcus said.

“There’s no need for bribery,” Fox said, but he was looking at the contents of his own box.

“You should try it before you say that,” Bitty said. “Jack there’s some things for you, too.”

The bag Bitty indicated had a loaf of whole-wheat bread and containers of homemade peanut butter and raspberry jam. Jack did not pick up the bag to check out the contents.

“How come Jack gets more?” Marcus asked.

“He didn’t get any sweets,” Bitty said. “Because I know him too well. But y’all are welcome at the bakery any time.”

When lunch was over and the check paid – Jack picked it up for the whole table – the four of them made their way to the sidewalk.

“You should come around more often,” Marcus said.

“Yeah,” Fox said. “It’s nice to see Jack here crack a smile once in a while.”

“And you can tell us about Jack’s wild college days,” Marcus said.

“I hate to disappoint you, but he wasn’t all that wild,” Bitty said. “But maybe you can get him to tell you about the football team and the fire extinguisher?”

When Fox and Marcus climbed into a BMW SUV, Bitty said, “I want to go around the corner to get a cookie.”

“Still hungry?” Jack said, falling in next to him.

“Professional interest,” Bitty said. “Why do I feel like I just met the parents? Only meeting your parents wasn’t as nerve-wracking.”

“I thought it went well,” Jack said. “Marcus likes you. I think Foxy does too.”

“Well, maybe he doesn’t see me as a team-wrecker anymore at least,” Bitty said, stepping to the window and ordering his cookie. “Want one?”

“No thanks,” Jack said. “But I got a ride-share here. Any chance you could give me a lift home?”

“Dolly would be honored,” Bitty said.

 


	5. Parts 13-15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack plays in Vegas and makes a late-night visit to Bitty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter earns the M rating. If you want to avoid the NSFW content, skip the part between the lines in Part 15. Know that consent was freely given on both sides, and a good time was had by all.

13

Jack

Jack breathed easier after the lunch with Bitty and his teammates. Keeping secrets wasn’t good for him – that was a lesson he learned a long time ago. Even if he hadn’t said he and Bitty were dating – because they weren’t, not really (not yet?) – he made it clear that Bitty was someone who was important to him.

He had no idea whether Marcus knew he and Bitty had once been in a serious relationship. He kind of assumed everyone knew, since the events of the summer of 2016 had been so public, but Marcus never mentioned it. Fox also seemed less suspicious of Bitty’s motives, or maybe just his effect on Jack.

Jack had never seen why anyone would think Bitty would want to disrupt the team; when he and Bitty came out to the Falconers, Bitty had become an integral part of the team’s social circles, popular with the wives and partners and with the players themselves.

When Bitty left, Jack’s teammates had been as confused as he was. They knew Jack hadn’t cheated on Bitty, and they seemed as mystified as Jack when he said Bitty hadn’t taken up with anyone else. That made some of them wonder if Jack had done something awful.

“Are you sure you didn’t have a big fight?” Thirdy asked.

“Did you compare him to your ex?” Tater asked. Right, like he would have compared Bitty to Kent, knowing Bitty would never trust Parse. But Tater didn’t know that Jack and Parse had a history.

The wives and partners – well, Jack didn’t spend as much time with them, but Marty said Gabby said she wasn’t totally shocked.

“She said Eric was really having a hard time with not being able to find a steady job,” Marty told him. “And he felt kind of invisible.”

Which never made any sense to Jack, because all his life, he would have given anything to be invisible. Except when he was on the ice.

So Jack had increased his cleaning lady’s hours, sent his laundry out, even had a personal chef deliver meals – although he wasn’t sure he’d ever admit that to Bitty. He’d increased the frequency of sessions with his therapist for a time. He’d had his agent find an assistant to handle the sale of the car Bitty drove and clean up all those little details. He’d had to fight not roll his eyes when they asked if he wanted to change the locks on the condo or even his Netflix password.

What he couldn’t replace was the warm feeling of coming home to Bitty, sprawled on the couch or bopping around the kitchen or sleeping in his bed. The comfort of Bitty’s touch when his thoughts started to spiral, the sparks that he’d feel when Bitty looked at him a certain way, or when he kissed him.

Those sparks sprang back to life the moment BItty kissed him in the park. If Bitty had invited him home that night, Jack would have gone willingly.

It would have been a bad idea. How much of a bad idea became clear the night he had dinner at Bitty’s apartment, when he realized that Bitty was right: He was still angry. The more time he spent with Bitty, the more the anger dissipated, especially when he realized how different Bitty’s life was here from what it had been in Providence.

Here, Bitty relied on himself. He had friends who didn’t know or care who any hockey players were, and he had a whole staff who depended on him. And he was thriving.

Bitty had come to one of the two home games since they had lunch with Marcus and Foxy, but he hadn’t come to see Jack in the dressing room of the corridor afterward. He seemed to want to keep his distance from the team.

But he’d given Jack the fixings for PBJs, he kept texting Jack, invited Jack over on one of his days off. They had taken Bitty’s truck and explored Brazos Bend State Park for a couple of hours. Bitty had clearly been there before, which surprised Jack. Bitty had liked being outside well enough, but he’d never been much of an outdoorsman in Jack’s experience.

“Aww, you didn’t know me when I was a kid,” Bitty said. “Some of my best times were in the spring, when Coach didn’t have football, and we could take the boat out or hike. No hunting then, either.”

Jack had gotten lots of pictures, mostly of the plant and animal life they saw along the nature trail, but some of Bitty, too. His favorite was one of Bitty standing on the path in the foreground, an alligator sunning itself at the edge of the river behind him.

They’d left for the park as soon as Jack finished practice that day, eating the lunch Bitty packed as soon as they arrived and then spending almost two hours strolling along the nature trail at an easy pace.

It had been a minor miracle that Jack’s light practice day coincided with Bitty’s day off. Jack probably wouldn’t be free to take so much time again for a few weeks; they were leaving to play in Vegas to start the last week of the regular season, and nothing would get easier.

Kent would no doubt try to get under his skin – that never changed – but at least it would be a chance to see Georgia.

Jack texted Bitty before he got on the plane.

_Heading to Vegas,_ he wrote. _We’ll be back late tomorrow night after the game._

Bitty was probably finishing up at the bakery, or maybe just home, getting ready for a late afternoon run.

_Good luck!_ Bitty texted back. _Mandy And Jeni are coming over to watch with me. I’m making the appetizers — they’re making the margaritas_

Jack was glad Bitty had friends like that close by. Bitty and his next-door neighbors spent at least an evening or two a week together, watching TV or playing games or going to eat at local hole-in-the-wall places. Jack had seen them in passing several times now, but he’d never been invited to join them.

Because Bitty didn’t think he’d want to? Because they didn’t want him to?

He couldn’t tell if Mandy and Jeni were queer or straight, or friends or girlfriends. It wasn’t any of his business, anyway. The way they always came as a pair reminded him of Ransom and Holster.

_Do they even like hockey?_ Jack asked

_Let’s just say they’ve seen some things they like,_ Bitty texted back, with a peach emoji at the end.

Before boarding, Jack texted Georgia Martin

_Still on for dinner tonight?_

_I wouldn’t miss it,_ Georgia texted back. _You’re still my favorite get._

*****************************

14

Bitty

Bitty was glad that he was watching the game with Mandy and Jeni.

For one thing, their TV was bigger. For another, it forced him to concentrate on the game and not just hurling imprecations every time Kent Parson stepped on the ice. Which, as the first-line center, was a lot.

He couldn’t hide his dislike completely, but he couldn’t out Kent either.

“What do you have against Parson?” Jeni said. “I can see why you don’t like the Aces – there is a lot of dirty little stuff going on – but he’s hardly the worst.”

“He’s what passes for a skill player on the Aces,” Bitty said, as Kent shot over Sully’s left shoulder to open the scoring.

“Seems pretty skilled to me,” Mandy said.

“He and Jack played together in juniors, when they were teenagers,” Bitty said. “He went pro right away, became the face of the Aces, had a lot of success early. Jack took a detour and ended up at Samwell. I know for a fact – and this isn’t public knowledge – that he tried to get Jack to sign with Aces out of college, but Jack went to Providence instead, and Kent got really pissy. Took a cheap shot at the Falcs’ goalie the first time they played.”

“But that’s like, a decade ago?” Jeni said. “And it seems like Jack gets along with him now.”

Because of course the pregame coverage had included shots of Jack and Kent chatting at center ice during warmups.

They had reached a state of friendly detente, at least in front of the cameras, before Bitty had broken things off with Jack. It was better, Jack said, because if it looked like there was a feud, the hockey media would just continue to play it up.

Jack had told Bitty way back when that he and Kent both owed each other a lot of apologies. Bitty didn’t know if they’d ever actually made those apologies or if they just decided to call it even and move on. It didn’t seem like something he should ask about when they were dating, especially since Jack knew Bitty had not forgiven Kent for some of the things he’d overheard.

If Jack could get over that to be friendly with Kent, was he doing the same thing with Bitty? Making nice to avoid negative publicity? It wasn’t like Bitty had apologized for his decision to move to Philadelphia, and he would have been shocked if Jack apologized for being the center of both their worlds.

But no, Jack had told him when he met Foxy and Marcus that Bitty was important to him, and he wanted to be important to Bitty.

“Jack will score,” Bitty said. “There’s no one more competitive than him.”

Jack did score before the end of the first, and again in the second. Bitty could see the smugness in his face when he netted his second goal, even if no one else could.

“Look at your man go!” Mandy said.

“Not my man,” Bitty said.

“Still?” Mandy said. “I thought you guys kissed, like, weeks ago. And I know you’ve been hanging out a lot.”

“It’s complicated,” Bitty said. “He’s really got to focus on his hockey now, and he’s worried because I left him last time. And I’m worried that if we try, I’ll get pulled back into his orbit. I know I want to try, but I think we need to be adults about it this time, and talk about things first. Maybe after the season? I hope. But a lot depends on whether the Aeros want to keep him and whether he wants to stay and play for what they can afford to pay him.”

“Holy shit, did you see that?” Jeni broke in.

Bitty looked at the screen to see one of the Aeros rookies, Iskander Volodin, lying still on the ice as hii teammates let trainers hang on to them as they jogged and slipped their way across the ice. In the corner, the refs were trying to separate – that was Jack and Parse. Holy shit was right.

Volodin had gotten to his hands and knees, and after the trainers talked to him for a few moments, skated off between them.

The replay showed Parse tripping up Jack by inserting his stick between Jack’s skates, then getting to the loose puck and heading towards the Aeros’ net. Volodin had slashed him across the wrists, stopping him from getting a shot off, and skating after the puck, with Parse skating after him and it looked like screaming at him too. Before Parse could get to Volodin, who had at least four inches on him, Drescher got there and cross checked Volodin across the shoulders, sending him headfirst into the boards.

Bitty winced in sympathy. There was almost no way Volodin wasn’t concussed after that. And what was Jack thinking, mixing it up with Parse after the play?

Bitty could see why he’d be mad, honestly. Parson probably should have been called for tripping Jack at the beginning of the sequence. Then Volodin’s slash was a clear penalty – the ref had his arm up before the mayhem erupted – but it had been an attempt to save a goal. It wasn’t anything for Parson to get that upset about. And what was Drescher thinking? Was he taking orders from his captain? Or just trying to protect him?

And what did Jack have to do with it, anyway?

Bitty took a big swig of his margarita and said, “Well, that was fun.”

In an effort to regain control of the game, the refs were liberal with their penalties. Volodin got two for the slash, with someone else serving since he would be unable to come back to the game. Drescher got a major and game misconduct for the crosscheck. Jack and Parson both got five for fighting.

As the camera panned across the penalty boxes again and again as the announcers talked about the sequence of incidents, Bitty was pleased to see a bruise starting to bloom across Parson’s cheekbone. Jack didn’t look any the worse for wear, although he was clearly ignoring Parson, just staring at the ice.

In the end, the Aces won, which was important to them because they were still skating around the playoff bubble.

“Was it like that when you played?” Jeni asked.

“NCAA’s different,” Bitty said. “Fighting gets you kicked out and a suspension. But the checking and stuff? Yeah. I got a concussion once when a check sent me flying and I landed on my head. Poor Jack felt like it was his fault.”

“Did he check you?”

“Not that time,” Bitty said. “He only checked me in practice, and he was careful not to hurt me. No, he called the play before the faceoff, and he thought he left me vulnerable. But it was a late hit by the other team. I would have been vulnerable to someone trying to take a piece out of our team anywhere on the ice.”

Maybe that was why Jack was so upset? If he felt responsible for Volodin’s injury?

Bitty had gone home and washed the trays that held the appetizers when his phone vibrated.

Jack.

_Can I come see you when we get back?_

Bitty started to respond when another text came in.

_Nvm. I know you have to work early._

Come over if you need to, Bitty texted back. _I’ll get someone to cover for me._

Then he called Thelma.

*****************************

15

Jack

Jack looked at his phone, the screen shining unnaturally bright in the darkness.

He’d never responded to Bitty’s last text, telling him to come ahead. Did Bitty think that meant he wasn’t coming? Did he get someone else to open? If Jack called him now, would he be waking him two hours before he had to get up for the day?

Fuck it. He was standing on the sidewalk in front of Bitty’s building, still in his game-day suit, in the wee hours of the morning. Bitty had said to come.

He texted _, Downstair_ s and waited.

It was probably only thirty seconds before his phone vibrated in his hand.

_I’ll buzz you in_

Jack let himself in and jogged to the elevator. When the doors opened on the fourth floor, Bitty was standing near his apartment, feet bare, tiny shorts, threadbare Falconers T-shirt. Jack’s heart clenched at the sight. How many times had he come home to Bitty dressed for bed just like this?

Bitty’s eyes were tired, but it didn’t look like he’d been asleep. He’d probably been awake since 4 a.m. yesterday.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I shouldn’t have asked to come over so late.”

“’S okay,” Bitty said. “Come on in. Want some tea? Camomile or Sleepytime? Do you need to eat something?”

“I ate in Vegas,” Jack said. “Before we left the arena. But tea would be good.”

He followed Bitty in and pulled his loosened tie from around his neck. He stuffed it into his jacket pocket before taking the jacket off and slinging it over the back of chair.

Bitty was bustling back and forth in the kitchen, filling the kettle, taking mugs down from hooks under the cupboard, finding a jar of local honey.

When the water boiled, he poured it over the tea bags and carried the mugs to the table.

“Can you grab the honey?” he said. “And that dish for the tea bags?”

Jack did as he was asked, taking the seat across from Bitty.

“Want to talk about it?” Bitty asked, adding a dollop of honey to his tea.

“Not really,” Jack said.

He raised his mug, blew over the surface of the tea, and took a sip.

“I didn’t want to go back to the hotel room alone,” he finally said.

“I saw what happened,” Bitty said. “I don’t understand why.”

“Because it’s Parse,” Jack said. “He’ll try to turn anything he can to his advantage. And he got the better of me and it ended up hurting someone who had nothing to do with it.”

“Sweet pea, it’s not your fault Dreschel went after Volodin. Not even if Kent told him to. It’s not your fault Kent got the puck away from you, either,” Bitty said. “It was a dirty play.”

“But he’s been doing that for years,” Jack said. “I should have been looking for it. But he distracted me.”

“He’s good at finding sensitive spots,” Bitty said.

“He was talking about you,” Jack said. “Making fun of me for taking you back.”

“You told him –”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Jack said. “I had dinner with Georgia Martin last night. I told her that it turned out you were in Houston, that we reconnected. I didn’t say we were dating, or that I took you back, or you took me back or anything like that. She doesn’t know about me and Parse – not for sure. If he knew I was meeting up with her, and he asked how it went, maybe she said something about how we were friends again, and he ran with it. It’s the only thing I can think that makes any sense.”

“I’m sorry,” Bitty said. “I swear I’m trying not to get in the team’s way, but here I am causing problems anyway.”

“You didn’t cause this,” Jack said. “Parse did. He always did know how to make things hurt. Like, I’d be defensive about you if we were together, and be sad if we weren’t.”

“Are you?” Bitty said. “Sad?”

Bitty’s eyes were wide and fixed on Jack’s face. He wanted to deny it, but finally he nodded once.

“I still miss you,” Jack said. “Can I kiss you? Just once?”

“As many times as you want,” Bitty said, standing and coming around the corner of the table.

Jack rose and met him halfway, pulling Bitty close.

The sparks bloomed into flames as Jack bent to bring their mouths together. The kiss started gentle, then deepened and became frantic. Jack couldn’t have said who was more desperate; he was kissing along Bitty’s jaw and down his neck while Bitty pulled their bodies close. Jack knew Bitty could feel his erection swelling against his abs; Bitty’s little shorts did nothing to disguise the pressure of Bitty’s erection against his thigh.

When Bitty tilted his head back to mouth along Jack’s neck, Jack reached down to cup his bottom, still small and round, still delightful.

This time, there was no fear of being seen, and this time, no one stepped back and called a halt.

Jack said, “Can we go to your bedroom?” and Bitty gasped a yes. Jack tightened his grip on Bitty’s ass and lifted, carrying Bitty to his bed.

———————————————————————–

He lay Bitty down on top of the covers and just looked. Long legs, rumpled T-shirt. Shorts barely containing Bitty’s cock. Lips red and swollen, hair mussed and eyes wide.

Bitty had always loved it when Jack went down on him.

“Can I blow you?” Jack asked.

“Yes,” Bitty said. “Please.”

So Jack peeled Bitty’s shorts off, helped him sit up and pulled the T-shirt over his head. When he started to move in again, Bitty stopped him, but it was only to tug at Jack’s shirt and say, “You too.”

So Jack stood up and unbuttoned his shirt, stripping it off with his eyes never leaving Bitty’s face.

He unbuckled his belt, turned away from Bitty and looked at him over his shoulder while he bent over to take his trousers and underwear off. Bitty was stroking himself slowly, watching Jack undress for him.

When he was naked, he said, “Better?”

“Much,” Bitty said. “There’s condoms in the side table drawer.”

Jack fished one out and climbed onto the bed, settling on hands and knees over Bitty. He ducked his head to kiss Bitty’s mouth, sweet and long and deep. Then he worked his way down Bitty’s body, sinking into the familiar scent of it. He was so beautiful.

Jack buried his nose in the blond curls at the base of Bitty’s cock, then pulled back and reached for the condom.

Bitty was probably embarrassed about how quickly he came, but Jack was thrilled he still had that effect on Bitty. It made Jack desperate for his own relief, so he knelt over Bitty fisting his own cock until Bitty pushed his hand away.

“Let me,” he said, jerking Jack off until he curled over himself and his semen spattered over Bitty’s chest.

Bitty reached for his discarded T-shirt and wiped at the mess. When Jack tried to get up to find a washcloth, Bitty grabbed his arm and held on.

————————————————————————

“Stay,” he said. “It’s almost morning.”

So Jack lay back down and Bitty snuggled into his side and fell asleep.


	6. Parts 16-18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All is not well.

16

Bitty

Bitty woke up to sunlight filtering in through the blinds in his bedroom.

Dang it. He was late. Did he turn off his alarm last night? Sleep through it?

He started to sit up, wondering why no one had called when he wasn’t at the bakery, when he remembered.

Jack. Jack had come over after he got back to Houston. Bitty had called Thelma and claimed a personal emergency. The bakery was fine.

Bitty lay back down and stretched, remembering what had happened when they went to bed. He hadn’t been planning on sleeping with Jack last night, but Jack had looked so sad, and Bitty had wanted him so much. Then when Jack kissed him like that – it had been years since Bitty felt so aroused. Jack clearly still knew what did it for Bitty, from manhandling him into the bedroom to the little striptease he’d done. It might have been five years, but Jack was, if anything, more solid than he’d been before. Bitty knew his body hadn’t held up as well, no matter how many times a week he tried to sneak a workout in, but Jack didn’t seem to mind.

Were they going to do this now? They still had to talk about it, but Bitty thought maybe they should. He had a stable foundation – more stable than he any of the time they were dating before – and Jack seemed more self-aware as well. At least he’d acknowledged that coming over so late would be inconvenient for Bitty.

It wasn’t something he could do all the time, but Jack had been upset after the game last night. Fucking Kent Parson.

Jack hadn’t said anything about needing to be somewhere this morning; where was he?

Bitty finally reached to the side table for his phone. It was 8:23 a.m., later than Bitty usually slept even on his days off now. There were no messages from Jack.

Jack’s side of the bed was empty and the sheets were cool to the touch. Bitty peered at the chair in the corner where Jack had draped his clothes; it was empty. There was no scent of coffee or noise coming from the rest of the apartment, either.

Bitty stood up and stumbled towards the bathroom, scratching idly at the dried mess on his chest. After he peed, he wet a washcloth to wipe it off, then washed his hands before wandering out to the living area. It would be like Jack to leave a note instead of texting.

But there was nothing there except the two mugs half-full of cold tea still sitting on the table. If it wasn’t for that – and the spunk on his chest and the used condom in the bedroom wastebasket – there would be no sign Jack had been there at all.

Well. Maybe his manners hadn’t improved in the past half-decade. Or maybe Jack regretted having sex with Bitty as soon as it happened. Maybe he didn’t know how to say that, and he’d snuck out as soon as Bitty fell asleep.

Fuck.

Bitty took a breath, reminded himself that he didn’t know why Jack left without saying anything, and took a shower. He called the bakery, told Thelma that he had dealt with the emergency and would be in soon. Then he made himself a peanut butter and banana sandwich for breakfast, wrapped it in a napkin, and headed out to Dolly.

He thought about texting Jack to check in. What if Jack regretted it so much he had a panic attack over it? But a text from Bitty probably wouldn’t help. Maybe Jack was just exhausted and wanted to sleep in his own bed, and he didn’t want to say no when Bitty asked him to stay. Bitty didn’t want to wake him.

Bitty didn’t want to text him and have Jack respond that it was all a mistake.

He would wait for Jack to text. At least until finished work today. He would let Jack tell him what it meant. Or at least why he left. Or whether he still wanted to be in contact with Bitty at all.

He had a bakery to run and an assistant bakery manager to relieve.

When he arrived at Bits and Pieces, he found everything well in hand. Thelma’s usual morning shift was about to end, but they were low on mini-pies and muffins, and Bitty had planned to make lavender tea cookies for the afternoon.

“You deal with those,” Thelma said. “I didn’t know how long you’d need me, so my schedule is clear for the next hour at least.”

“You’re a treasure,” Bitty said. “Quinn’s in front?”

“Yes,” Thelma said. “Came in about five minutes late.”

Which was fifteen minutes before Bitty really needed him – he’d learned early to build in a little downtime at the beginning of shifts – but he said, “Okay. I’ll talk to him before he leaves.”

Then he set his phone down in the office, turned the music up in the kitchen, and started rolling out dough for the mini-pies.

Once the pies – maple-apple and pecan – were in the oven, he did two dozen each of oat bran and chocolate-cranberry mini-muffins. Then he dropped the tea cookies onto baking sheets, took the muffins out and put the cookies in, and checked the pies, which had a few minutes yet.

With five minutes before anything else needed to happen, he went to check his phone.

There was a text from Jeni.

_You recover from the game last night? We’re heading to El Barco tonight if you want to join us_

Bitty tapped the phone to his upper lip.

If Jack wanted to get together and hash things out (or, if Bitty was honest, fall into bed again), Bitty wanted to be available, and if Jack never wanted to see him again, Bitty wasn’t sure he was up to go to the restaurant he took Jack to.

But if the situation was something in the middle, it would be good to be with friends instead of stewing by himself.

_Can I let you know?_ he texted.

_Got a hot date?_ Jeni asked.

_Ha. Then the answer would be no,_ Bitty typed. _Things just up in the air_

By noon, when Denise came in and Thelma went home, Jack still hadn’t texted or called, and Bitty was beginning to think he wasn’t going to. He went from annoyed to angry to worried to guilt-ridden and back again pretty much every hour, but he tried to keep a pleasant demeanor for customers and staff.

When Denise was finally leaving, she said, “Get some rest tonight, Eric. You look exhausted.”

“Thanks,” he said, making a face. “I’ll try.”

Then he turned the lock in the door behind her, picked up his phone, and sent the text he had spent all day composing in his head.

_Please text me and let me know what’s going on. Whatever it is is okay, but I’m worried at not hearing from you._

Then he let himself out the back, got into Dolly, and drove to the bank to make the deposit and then home.

************************

17

Jack

Jack looked at his phone and put it down again.

There were no texts from Bitty after the one where he said he was worried. No calls, either.

So maybe Bitty was worried, but not worried enough to keep checking.

It had been more than a day since that text. Thirty-one hours of Jack trying to figure out what to do next, if he’d spoiled everything, if he could live having driven Bitty out of his life again.

Of course he knew how to live without Bitty. He’d been doing it for five years, and doing just fine. Or at least adequately. But having Bitty in his life — even in the limited way of these past few weeks — was infinitely better than not having Bitty in his life. When he wasn’t with Bitty, he was looking forward to being with him, anticipating what he would look like and what he would have to talk about. Jack would save up things to tell him, take pictures of things to show him. He even tried to play better when Bitty was watching.

Then they’d fallen into bed (Jack had carried Bitty to his bed), and it had been heaven. The way he looked, the way he smelled, the way he _sounded_ … Jack could feel the blood pool in his groin just thinking about it.

After, when Bitty had pulled on Jack’s arm and asked him to stay, had curled into his side and nuzzled against his shoulder, his breath coming in little gusts … Jack dropped off to sleep feeling like he was home in a tiny apartment with a rattling air conditioner.

Then the alarm on Bitty’s phone had gone off, startling Jack awake a scant hour after he’d turned off the light. Jack silenced it before it woke Bitty — he’d said he’d get someone to cover for him, right? — but then lay awake, thinking about what he’d done.

He’d invited himself to Bitty’s home as soon as he arrived back in Houston, even though he knew Bitty would normally be asleep at that hour. More than that, Bitty needed to be asleep then to make it to work. And his job wasn’t just busywork for someone else, it was running his own successful business, one he’d built himself.

When they started seeing each other again, Bitty said he’d had to leave because everything was about Jack, and Bitty felt like he was losing his identity. Here Jack was, pushing his way in on his own schedule again.

And Bitty had said over and over again that they had to take it slow this time, they had to do it right this time, they had to _talk_ about it this time.

Then, after a few minutes of making out he’d gone all caveman and picked Bitty up and carried him off to bed.

(But Bitty liked it. Bitty had been grinding against him. Bitty asked him to take his clothes off. Bitty told him where the condoms were. (Why did Bitty have condoms?))

In the end, he convinced himself that Bitty could be angry when he woke up, and Jack knew he couldn’t take that. So he slid gingerly out of bed, gathered up his clothes and dressed in the living room.

He’d decided to wait to find out how Bitty felt about things before doing anything else.

But then Bitty hadn’t texted all day. His text finally came late in the afternoon, when Bitty would be getting off work, and Jack hadn’t known how to respond. He didn’t really know what was going on. Why hadn’t Bitty called or texted when he woke up?

Every text he tried to compose sounded annoyed, or angry, or pathetic.

_I don’t know what’s going on. You tell me._

_Of course I’m ok. Why wouldn’t I be?_

_I’m scared I screwed it all up._

He drove back to Bitty’s apartment, glad his Audi had finally arrived, figuring he could do better in person, but when he pulled up, he saw Bitty walking out the front door with Mandy and Jeni. So Bitty wasn’t that worried.

Jack drove home.

The next day was morning skate, tape, team lunch, pregame nap. Through it all, Bitty didn’t text or call again. He wasn’t in his usual seat for the game. Jack showered, did his post-game workout, and went home.

There were still no new entries in the text thread with Bitty.

Finally, he thumbed through his contacts. It was after midnight on the east coast, but Shitty hadn’t warned Jack about Bitty being here. Shitty deserved to have his sleep disturbed.

It didn’t take Shitty long to answer.

“Jack! I see you’re tearing up the central division,” Shitty said. “Find someone to give you a little extra encouragement?”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Shits?”

“Wouldn’t have made any difference, would it? You were traded.”

“I could have invoked my non-movement clause.”

“Nah, you wanted out of Providence.”

That was true. As the signs of Bitty had slowly been erased from Jack’s life there, he’d felt less and less anchored. He’d wanted a fresh start, and, according to his stat line at least, it had been good for him.

“So you’ve seen him?” Shitty asked. “I was getting the feeling both of you were busy since no one was calling Uncle Shitty and pining at me.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I’ve been seeing him, but I think I fucked everything up.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Shitty said. “You haven’t listened to him talk about you the last few years. ‘Is he really okay? Do you think he hates me? Does he ever ask about me?’”

“Then why didn’t he call me?”

“Did you hear what I just said?” Shitty said. “He was afraid to. Thought you hated him, or maybe worse, would laugh at him. And you never did ask about him, so I couldn’t say you did. Even though I knew you were never over him.”

Jack remembered the look on Bitty’s face when he came out of the kitchen the first time at Bits and Pieces. It was like when he was a freshman and was bracing himself for a check, terrified but determined to see it through, at least until his body betrayed him and he fainted.

Fuck.

“Shitty, I’ve done every possible thing wrong,” Jack said.

“I doubt that,” Shitty said. “And whatever mistakes you made, you get up tomorrow and try to make it right.”

************************

18

Bitty

Bitty had waited until Mandy and Jeni were ready to walk out the door before he agreed to go to dinner with him. Jack had been upset the night before; if he needed Bitty, Bitty wanted to be there for him As long as Bitty could get to bed by around ten tonight.

When Jack hadn’t responded after a couple of hours, Bitty stuffed his phone in the pocket of his shorts and stepped into the hall to meet his neighbors.

“So no hot date with hockey boy?” Jeni said.

“I guess not,” Bitty said. “I was thinking he might call, but he hasn’t, so I guess he missed his chance.”

“Boy doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Jeni said.

“Yes, he does,” Bitty said. “He really, really does.”

Bitty ended up spilling most of the story – some sordid details redacted – over sangria and fish tacos.

“I let him come over late because I knew he was upset,” Bitty said. “I didn’t plan to sleep with him. But when it happened, it was just so good. And I asked him to stay, and I know he was there when I fell asleep, but in the morning the only thing left was the mess. No note, no call, mo text.”

“Fuck people who get in your pants and then never call again,” Mandy said. “That’s rude.”

“Thanks, Mandy,” Bitty said, “for the vote of confidence. He didn’t call for one day, not forever. Then again, he never did call me after we split, or even ask our mutual friends how I was or even where I was.”

“You think he did it on purpose?” Jeni said. “Like to get back at you for leaving? Show you what you’re missing then leave you high and dry?”

“Like I did to him?”

“I didn’t say that,” Jeni said.

Bitty wanted to be able to say yes, to justify the anger that was mixed into the worry and the guilt, but that wasn’t Jack’s style. If he had a problem with Bitty, he’d either lay it out for him (lay into him, more like) or swallow it down and never say anything at all, no matter how much his resentment festered, until Bitty pulled it out of him. Toying with Bitty wasn’t his style.

“I doubt it,” Bitty said. “I just wish he would let me know why he left this morning, and at this point, why he didn’t say anything all day.”

“Poor baby,” Mandy said. “It is only one day, and maybe something came up.”

“Maybe,” Bitty said. “Maybe he’s just taking the time to think about what he wants to say. He does that sometimes. But the only reason I can think of that he’d have to do that is he regrets what happened, and doesn’t know how to say it. I feel like I’ve been spinning these cotton candy dreams of us getting together, and getting it right this time, and all it took was one time together for him to decide he doesn’t want me anymore.”

“I’m sure that’s not it,” Mandy said.

Bitty wasn’t sure of that at all.

The next day, he got up at four with a wine headache, made it to the bakery by five, and took comfort in his routine. He got the morning baking done with Thelma’s help, made the coffee, stocked the display cases. He took his turn running the register during the morning rush. When he had a break, he checked Twitter for news of the Aeros. The only injury was the concussion to Volodin; everyone else had turned up to morning skate. That meant Jack was at least physically fine.

Bitty was both relieved and annoyed. He was glad to know Jack’s silence wasn’t because he’d suffered some horrible accident on the way home, or because he was locked in his apartment having a panic attack, but then why hadn’t he called? Even if all he could say was that sleeping together had been a mistake?

Bitty stayed at the shop from before opening to after closing, something he’d done nearly every day when it first opened. Now he usually either took a few hours off midday to work out, or skate if he found open ice, or he left early if there were two reliable people scheduled for the late afternoon.

He tried not to be hypercritical with the staff, but Thelma was using entirely to much icing on the mini-cupcakes and nowhere near enough blueberries in the muffin batter.

Quinn was welcome to wear jeans to work, but did they have to be ripped? To the point that there was more hole than fabric? And did Quinn’s friends have to monopolize the corner table the whole time he was working?

Denise he just tried to steer clear of. She clearly had opinions about what was going on, and if she shared them with him, he might say something he’d regret.

He locked up and went home to watch the game alone. Jack got a lot of screen time while the announcers talked about how serious his game face was and what a great addition he’d been to the team. His play that night was unremarkable in a 4-2 loss to Colorado, and Bitty thought he looked tired and preoccupied.

When the game ended, Bitty turned off the TV and the lights and went to bed.

Saturday started much the same – it was one of busiest days of the week at Bits and Pieces – and he was in the back trying to keep up when Quinn came back.

“Jack Zimmerman’s here,” he said. “He said you might not want to see him, but he asked me to tell you anyway. But you should know, if he’s dicking around with you, you can do better.”

Like a twenty-year-old employee who likes dramatic hair color? Bitty thought.

“My personal life is not your business,” Bitty said. “But I appreciate the thought. Thanks for coming to get me.”

Then he dusted the flour off his hands and headed out to see what Jack wanted.

 


	7. Parts 19-21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Bitty have awkward conversations.

19

Jack

When Bitty came through the door from the kitchen, Jack set his box of muffins and mini-pies on the nearest table and squared up to face him.

Bitty looked … not happy. That was the best Jack could do with Bitty’s expression. He was tired, clearly, but beyond that, he could be angry, disappointed, sad.

Bitty approached until he stood directly in front of Jack, in the middle of the Saturday morning rush.

“Quinn said you wanted to talk to me, but this really isn’t a good time,” he said, voice low. His glance at the people surrounding them conveyed the impression that it wasn’t the right place, either.

“I know,” Jack said. “But I know I owe you an apology, and it seemed better to do it in person. So I’m sorry. Can we talk more tonight?”

“You’re playing Dallas tonight,” Bitty said.

“I know,” Jack said. “It’s apparently really important that we win, even though we’re in the playoffs either way, and morning skate starts in an hour. Will you be at the game? Can we talk after?”

“I have to be here tomorrow morning.”

“Just talk,” Jack said.

“I’ll ask Henry if he was planning to go,” Bitty said.

“I can get you a ticket too,” Jack said. “If you want to come and you need a ticket. I have a workout after, but I should be done in less than an hour.”

“I can wait in Dolly.”

“Okay,” Jack said. “Just tell me where you are, and I’ll find you.”

Then he picked up his box of pastries for the front office staff – no way would he get himself in trouble by sharing with his teammates on the day of the last regular season game of the season – and left Bitty standing in the middle of the bakery.

He was pushing it to get on the ice in time, but he didn’t need to see the trainer this morning, and he could dress quickly if need be.

Of course Foxy was already there and dressed.

“Cutting it close, Jack,” Foxy said. “You have a reason to sleep in today?”

Maybe it was better when he thought Foxy was uncomfortable with same-sex relationships. Now he seemed intent on proving to Jack that he was fine with it, when Jack wasn’t even sure what kind of relationship he was in.

“I was on the phone late with an old friend,” he said.

“You know, Eric lives here, right? You don’t have to just talk on the phone,” Foxy said.

“Bitty gets up at four o’clock in the morning to go to work,” Jack said. “Although the guy I was on the phone with was a teammate of ours. I did stop at Bits and Pieces this morning. There’s pastry in the staff lounge, but don’t blame me if you get caught sneaking something.”

“So all’s well in paradise?”

“I thought you were worried about Bitty distracting me?”

Foxy shrugged.

“If you’re that into the guy, I figure it would be more distracting if it didn’t work, and you were always wanting what you couldn’t have, no?” Foxy grinned. “Besides, we’ve been doing a lot better since you got here. Whatever keeps you happy, man.”

“Whatever, Fox,” Jack said.

“Eric is your boyfriend now?”

Marcus was behind him. How did he move so quietly when he was so big?

“Um, not quite,” Jack said, ignoring Foxy’s look of surprise. “He was, years ago. And there’s a lot of stuff from back then I think we need to deal with. But I’m working on it.”

“Aww, you’re so pretty,” Marcus said. “Of course he’ll say yes. He likes you. Why else would he come to lunch with grumpy Foxy?”

“Thanks, Marcus, but he’s pretty used to grumpy hockey players,” Jack said.

“Can I sneak pastries too?”

“I won’t tell, but I’m not going to cover for you, either,” Jack said. “And you know you can go buy your own, right?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Fox said. “Good luck with Eric, though. Think you’ll have it settled by the time the playoffs start?”

“In three days?” Jack said. “If we do, you’ll be the first to know, Dad.”

The only communication Jack got from Bitty was a text saying he’d be at the game, in his regular seats, with Emily, Quinn’s friend who used to play goalie.

_I’ll run her home after the game and come back towards the arena to meet you,_ he said.

That night, Jack played like he was on fire. He didn’t get a hat trick, but two goals and two assists made a four-point game for him in a decisive 5-2 win for the Aeros. After each goal, he made a point of looking towards Bitty, even when he was at the other end and couldn’t really see him behind the people standing in front of him.

After the game, he did his workout – a little harder, given the brief break before Round One of the playoffs – showered, and shaved for the last time for what he hoped would be several weeks.

Finally he checked his phone.

_Meet me in the park across LaBranch from the stadium?_

Jack walked out the player entrance and made his way around to the park. He saw Bitty’s big old truck parked nearby and crossed towards it.

Bitty must have been sitting in the truck watching for him, because the door opened and he hopped out. They didn’t speak as they made their way to a bench in the darkened park.

“I’m pretty sure the parks close at dusk around here,” Jack said.

“Let’s live dangerously, then,” Bitty said. “I don’t want to worry about people overhearing.”

“And you don’t want to be alone at one of our places?” Jack said.

“Nope,” Bitty said. “I think having sex wasn’t the best idea. But if it came to it, I don’t know if I’d say no. So. Avoiding the temptation.”

Jack nodded.

“You know I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to,” he said.

“I know,” Bitty said. “And I want the same for you. And the way you disappeared made me think that maybe we did do something you didn’t want. But just leaving and not answering me for more than a day wasn’t okay, Jack.”

“I know,” Jack said. “I knew I should have said something, but I didn’t know what to say. So I didn’t.”

“Was it that bad?” Bitty asked, but he was smiling.

“You know it wasn’t,” Jack said. “Maybe the problem was it was that good.”

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “But I wasn’t seeing that as a problem. Certainly not a big enough problem that we couldn’t have tried it again, and then talked it over over breakfast.”

“Your way sounds better,” Jack said.

**************************

20 

Bitty

Jack really should be a creature of the night, Bitty thought, with his pale skin and dark hair. The moon was about half-full and they were in a major city, but Jack still looked silver and ethereal in its light.

Good thing Bitty had spent enough time staring at Jack to not get distracted by his looks. Much.

So far, Jack had agreed with everything he said, but not offered any real explanation for his silence.

So when Jack agreed that it would have been better to stay until Bitty woke up, maybe had a second round, and then defined the relationship over omelets and whole wheat toast, Bitty called him on it.

“Then why didn’t you do it that way?” he asked. “Why not even wake me up and tell me you had to go? Or leave a note on the table? Or, I don’t know, text me back when I said I was worried about you?”

“Why did you have condoms?” Jack blurted. “Fuck. Sorry. It’s none of my business. But I got to wondering, and then I realized I didn’t know really anything about the last five years, and we never even talked about it.”

Bitty wanted to say, “I had condoms because I’m an adult man with a healthy sex drive.”

What he did say was, “I bought them before you came over the first time. Just in case. I’ve dated a couple of guys, but nothing too serious, and nothing in the last year or so.”

He did not add, “Because I kept comparing them to you.”

“Me either,” Jack said. “I mean, nothing serious. The guys hooked me up with a couple of people, but I’m not much for casual relationships.”

“I know,” Bitty said. “That’s why I was so worried when you skipped out.”

“You weren’t worried enough to check again after one text,” Jack said. “You went out with your friends like two hours later.”

“First, you’re a grown man,” Bitty said. “I don’t see what another text would have done, other than prove my devotion, I guess. Is that what you wanted? And how did you know I went out?”

“I went to your apartment to talk to you,” Jack said. “I saw you leaving.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Bitty said. “Never mind. I know Jeni and Mandy can be a bit much. But you still could have texted. Even then. Just said, ‘I came to talk to you but I saw you going out.’ I could have come right home.”

“Would you?”

“Spent the evening talking to you instead of rehashing the situation with my next door agony aunts? Of course.”

“After you fell asleep, I just got anxious,” Jack said. “You said we should talk about things, do it right this time, and we didn’t, and I thought you might be angry and blame me.”

“Jack, sweet pea, I was every bit as much a willing participant as you were,” Bitty said. “As I recall, you listened when I asked you take your clothes off and you listened when I asked you to stay, at least for a while. If I was mad at anyone, it would be me for letting my heart and my body overrule my brain on this one.”

“But before, you were upset enough to start a whole new life without me,” Jack said. “And I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to ruin everything this time by making you upset.”

“So you left and ignored me and made me upset?” Bitty said. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I know,” Jack said. “Shitty told me.”

“Shitty?” Bitty asked, suddenly mystified. “Where does he come into this? I haven’t talked to him in weeks.”

“I know,” Jack said. “He wants you to call him. He said he was giving us privacy. But he said that after you … went to Philadelphia, you didn’t call me because you were scared I’d be angry with you.”

“I was right, though, wasn’t I?” Bitty said. “He had permission to tell you about me if you asked, at least where I was. I figured it was only fair since I had the Hockey News to tell me about you, but he said you never asked.”

“I should have, I know,” Jack said. “It was like when things ended between me and Kent – he called and texted a few times, but I never responded. I was just done with that part of my life. I mean, literally. The whole no-heartbeat-for-two-minutes seemed like a clean break, and Kenny was part of the old life, with the partying and the poorly supervised meds and everything. I couldn’t be the person I was before, and that was the person who was with Kenny.”

“Okay, first, Kent’s pissiness makes so much more sense to me now,” Bitty said.

“Yeah, it kind of made more sense to me after you left,” Jack said. “There was just this … hole … in my life, and you weren’t there to fill it, and I resented it. And I didn’t get why being with me wasn’t enough. But being my boyfriend – that wasn’t your dream for your life. I was living my dream, and you weren’t living yours.”

“Jack, I loved being your boyfriend,” Bitty said.

“But it wasn’t enough,” Jack said.

“No,” Bitty said. “Maybe it could have been, if I could have gotten any kind of traction in trying to start a career. I was maybe hoping that I could make a name somewhere else and then come back, if you’d have me, but that kind of blew up.”

“You never said,” Jack said.

“Yeah, well, it seemed like you thought you should be enough,” Bitty said. “Without anything else.”

“Maybe,” Jack said. “I think I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“How happy you are now,” Jack said. “With your career and your life. People look up to you. They admire you, and they should.”

“So where does that leave us?” Bitty said. “I was going to suggest we try again, but after this … I need for you treat me as an equal.”

“I know,” Jack said. “And I don’t think we can get back to where we were fast. But maybe we can date?”

“I don’t think we can get back to where we were at all,” Bitty said. “That wasn’t a good place to be, even if it seemed like it at first. But maybe we can get somewhere new.”

“Then can I take you out to dinner? Tomorrow?” Jack said. “You don’t usually work Mondays, right?”

“Not usually,” Bitty said. “Want me to find a place?”

“No,” Jack said. “I want to take you on a proper date. I can ask Fox and Marcus for a recommendation – they’ll be thrilled.”

**************************

“Marcus, you date a lot, right?’

“Not during playoffs,” Marcus said, changing into his gym clothes. “Besides, you have Eric, right?”

“I’m trying,” Jack said. “I want to take him out to dinner. On a date. Really special. I was hoping you would have some recommendations. Maybe somewhere we could go tonight.”

“Tonight?” Marcus said. “Let me think. He likes food, right? So not just steaks. There’s one really good place, but no way you can get it tonight.”

“I can pay,” Jack said.

“Doesn’t matter,” Marcus said. “You need at least a couple of weeks, and we should be busy then, yes?”

“I hope so,” Jack said. “I was hoping to take him out for one good date before the craziness starts.”

“Give me some ideas. You want barbecue? Asian fusion? Mexican?” Marcus asked. “You have something to celebrate?”

Later, Jack found himself in the lobby of Bitty’s building, in dress shoes and slacks, open-collared shirt and sport coat. He tried to remember the last time he’d dressed up specifically to impress someone – not because of a dress code, written or unwritten, but because he wanted one particular person to think he looked good, and to know he made an effort to do it for them.

Maybe Bitty’s graduation from Samwell? But that was more to make Bitty’s parents realize they couldn’t intimidate him. Or maybe it was to intimidate them, which didn’t sound very good, even in his own mind.

Instead of buzzing him in, Bitty texted, _Be right down_.

A minute or two later, Bitty himself appeared, also dressed in slacks and sport coat, but with a jaunty bow tie.

“I don’t usually go with the tie during the day here,” Bitty said. “Especially at work. But I thought you might like it. What’s our plan?”

“Starting with dinner at a place called Xochi,” Jack said. “Marcus and Foxy both said it was good, and that you’d find it more interesting than a steakhouse or seafood place.”

“It’s supposed to be delicious,” Bitty said. “What then?”

“Maybe a walk?” Jack said. “I thought about a concert or a play or something, but we need to spend some time talking. Like a first date. Get to know each other.”

“Sounds lovely,” Bitty said. “Shall we?”

“I drove,” Jack said.

“Still the same car?” Bitty asked. “You did like this car.”

“No need to change it,” Jack said. 

Jack started the car and turned on the air conditioner. It amazed him that he needed in in early April, but it wasn’t so much the temperature as the humidity. His hands felt clammy on the steering wheel. Or maybe that was nerves.

“Um, do you mind if I just park where I’m staying?” Jack said. “The restaurant’s just a five-minute walk. But I don’t want you to think I have ulterior motives.”

“That’s fine,” Bitty said. “And I don’t have any objections to seeing where you’re staying. We’re both grown-ups.”

“We just need to act like it?” Jack suggested, cracking a small grin.

“Well, maybe not _too_ much,” Bitty said. “We had a lot of fun together.”

“We did,” Jack said.

Once they were seated and had their orders taken (tuna appetizer, the half chicken for Jack, the quail for Bitty), Jack just looked at Bitty. Bitty, for once, didn’t seem to know what to say either.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Jack finally said. “Everything I want to say leads to the past, but I don’t want to dwell on that.”

“It’s kind of hard not to mention the past, given our history,” Bitty said. “All our friends in common, even our families … but there’s no need to dwell. Maybe we focus on catching up to where we are now? What are your parents up to these days?”

“Well, Papa still commentates on the Habs games,” Jack said. “Which means he’s frustrated at being at loose ends in April again. His real estate investments seem to be doing well. Oh, and he’s starting that foundation he used to talk about, the one that would bring hockey programs into underserved areas. He got that idea from you, you know.”

“He’s finally doing that?” Bitty said. “I thought he decided he wouldn’t be able to have enough of an effect to do much good.”

“He’s got some of his friends on board,” Jack said. “I think the pilot is going to be Atlanta – they’ll start with bigger cities where there are rinks, just no low-cost ways for families to access the game. Then they want to get the clubs to help too. Most of them do things in their own cities, but maybe have them support a program in their AHL cities as well. Something like that.”

“So he wants American kids to be as hockey-crazy as Canadians?”

“And Minnesotans,” Jack said. “And kids from the northeast.”

“Gotta keep kids off the streets by handing them spears and strapping blades to their feet, right?” Bitty said. “And then telling them to go run into each other.”

“It sounds crazy when you say it like that,” Jack said.

“What about your mother?” Bitty asked.

“I don’t how many charity boards she sits on,” Jack said. “Mostly arts groups around Boston and in Montreal. She might teach a class on the business of entertainment for women or something like that at Samwell next year.”

“Fancy,” Bitty said. “I guess that MBA she earned is coming in handy?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “When I was a kid, I didn’t get why she’d go back to school. It seemed like so much work, when she’d be gone for class and then working in her office at home. But she liked it. I think maybe it’s one of the things that made me want to go to college.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” Bitty said.

“Really?” Jack said. “After everything?”

“Yes, really,” Bitty said. “You make it sound like everything’s in the past and we have no future, though.”

“I hope we do,” Jack said. “I want to say just tell me everything I did wrong so I can fix it, but I don’t think it works that way.”

“Jack, sweet pea, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you have a therapist here? In Houston?”

Bitty asked.

Jack shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said. “I’ve been doing phone appointments with Sydney in Boston.”

“Maybe you should find one sooner than later,” Bitty said. “It’s just – you took nearly two days to return a text. And it’s – not fine, but I understand. But maybe you should have someone to help you, someone that you see face-to-face? I know it’s much harder for me to hide things that way.”

“You bit the bullet and went to therapy?” Jack said. “What made you go?”

“Hush,” Bitty said. “You know I had a psychologist helping me with my checking problem in school.”

“I know Murray made you go,” Jack said. “The times I suggested therapy after you graduated, you acted like I was insulting you.”

“I was scared,” Bitty said. “I didn’t want to have to tell another human being how unhappy I was. I was working so hard at keeping up the ‘everything’s hunky dory’ front. Then when I first left, I couldn’t afford it. But I spent some time with someone here deconstructing some of my hangups. And I know it’s my fault that I didn’t communicate my unhappiness to you earlier, and I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry for abandoning you so abruptly. But really, I’m not that good of an actor, and you never noticed I wasn’t thriving. And when I did say something, you laughed at me for thinking I deserved more.”

“No, Bits, not that,” Jack said. “You deserve every good thing. I didn’t get why you wanted to work so much, though. That seemed strange. And if I wasn’t so wrapped up in myself, maybe I would have understood that. Or maybe you would have tried to explain it instead of just trying to keep me happy. Which I understand wasn’t a healthy thing for either of us. And I’m sorry for that.”

“Sounds like you listened to Sydney, at least some of the time,” Bitty said. “And here we are, dwelling on the past … How do you like the food?”

“It’s delicious,” Jack said. “One of the best things I’ve eaten that you didn’t cook. What about you? I have to tell Marcus and Foxy what you thought.”

“It’s great,” Bitty said. “This is delicious. I really like the flavor the bacon gives it.”

“What about your parents?” Jack said. “You said you’re getting along better. How are they doing these days?”

“Coach is really hoping for a state championship before he retires in a few years,” Bitty said. “He’s already got his eye on an eighth-grader who he things will be the quarterback to do it. Mama’s part-time at the pediatrician’s office. And we are getting along, but I think it’s easier with me being a few states away.”

“I can see that,” Jack said. “I can’t have any, but do you want dessert?”

“That chocolate mousse is calling my name,” Bitty said.

“Bitty! Bitty!” Jack whispered.

“Hush, you,” Bitty said. “When’s the last time you talked to Shitty? Besides a couple of days ago?”


	8. Parts 22-24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Bitty find a way forward.

Looking back, Bitty could never decide whether the dinner at Xochi felt like a first date or a reunion of old friends, with time to talk about parts of their shared past that weren’t so fraught with tension.

It turned out that Bitty – despite being in Houston – was in more regular contact with the rest of their former teammates, except Shitty and Lardo. Ransom and Holster were still in the northeast, but they spent a few days in Houston on a marathon road trip the summer before.

“I’m glad we’re not broke college kids anymore,” Bitty said. “It was great to see them, but I don’t think my couch could accommodate both of them. They rented a nice place not too far from me, and we went out and ate so much.”

Chowder and Farmer – now with two babies – had moved back to the Bay Area, and Dex had gone back to Maine, where he worked in the family fishing business and did freelance software development. Nursey, too, had gone back home, working at a Manhattan publishing house, but Bitty knew he spent most summer weekends – and a few full weeks – in Maine. Dex reciprocated by moving his software business to the city for much of the winter.

“I think it might be too much for those two to live together full-time,” Bitty said. “The back-and-forth seems to work for them.”

“I’m glad,” Jack said. “But I think that would be really hard on a relationship.”

“I know,” Bitty said. “At least if there’s no plan to live in the same state at any point in the near future. But everybody has to do what works for them.”

Catching up took them through dessert – the mousse was to die for – and then Jack paid the check. As they made their way out of the restaurant, Eric felt Jack’s hand on the small of his back, not pushing, just guiding. It was a gesture that Jack had made so many times before, and one that made Bitty relax just a bit.

When they made their way out of the restaurant, the temperature had dropped enough to make their jackets comfortable. Jack tangled his fingers with Bitty’s as they made their way to Discovery Green, quiet now in the cool evening. As they wandered along the edge of the lake, Bitty said, “Can you imagine they have an outdoor rink here in the winter? Ice isn’t usually very good, but people love it.”

“Do you come skate here?”

“Not often,” Bitty said. “Sometimes I can get on some pretty empty ice in the early afternoons, when all the kids are in school. But there’s not a lot of time to skate.”

“Do you want to?” Jack said. “With me? I can probably get some time after practice tomorrow.”

“Are you trying to woo me with ice time?” Bitty said. “Joke’s on you, because I’m pretty rusty.”

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Jack said.

“No, sweet pea, I’d love it,” Bitty said. “Just don’t expect me to be able to move like I did ten years ago. Or even five years ago.”

“We’re all getting older,” Jack said.

“But you seem to be getting better,” Bitty said.

“Smarter, maybe,” Jack said. “Better at picking my spots. But mornings sure hurt a lot more than they used to.”

“I think that’s true for everyone,” Bitty said. “Not just world-class professional athletes.”

“I’ll text you tomorrow morning about ice time,” Jack said.

They continued their meandering pace across the park, making their way towards Jack’s hotel.

“So … are we dating now?” Bitty asked. “I mean, this was a date, and we have a skating date tomorrow.”

“And we had lunch and dinner, twice,”Jack said. “I think that counts.”

“And we slept together once,” Bitty said.

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I guess I’m sorry about the way it happened, but it was good, wasn’t it?”

“It was always good with us,” Bitty said.

“Nice to know we didn’t lose that,” Jack said. “Even if we want to put it on hold for a while.”

“Were you worried about that?”

Jack shrugged. “Maybe a little? That you would have found people that were better, or that you enjoyed it with more.”

“Nope,” Bitty said. “Not like I went on a wild tear or anything, but the guys that I did hook up with? None of them did it for me like you.”

“Good to know,” Jack said. “You, too. You’re it for me, Bits. You always have been.”

Bitty squeezed Jack’s hand, and said, “I think you might be it for me, too. But we have to be good to each other.”

“I know,” Jack said. “And this is probably the totally wrong time to do this, because playoffs are starting.”

“I know that,” Bitty said. “And I know how much that demands from you.”

“We won’t have any nights like this until at least the first round is over,” Jack said. “And maybe not then, depending on how long it goes.”

“I know,” Bitty said. “And I’ll be here when that happens, and I’ll be here when your season ends, whenever and however that happens. You know where to find me.”

“At the bakery?”

“Most of the time, yes,” Bitty said.

“Will you come to our home games?” Jack asked. “When you can?”

“I wouldn’t miss them,” Bitty said.

“Then I have something for you,” Jack said. “At the hotel.”

They made their way to Jack’s hotel, and up to his suite. It was entirely impersonal, Bitty thought, but part of that was because Jack was so neat it was hard to tell anyone was staying there at all.

Jack reached into the closet and pulled out a plain shopping bag.

“I wanted you to have this,” he said. “But you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want.”

Bitty reached in and pulled out a Zimmermann number 1 Aeros jersey.

“Of course I’ll wear it,” Bitty said.

“Thanks,” Jack said. “I’ll take you home.”

When Jack pulled up in front of Bitty’s building, he said, “I won’t come in, because I won’t want to leave.”

“I guess we’ll have to kiss goodnight in the car,” Bitty said.

When Jack leaned over, Bitty met him over the center console. The kiss was tender and sweet, full of longing and promise and not a small tinge of sadness, Bitty thought.

As he got out of the car, jersey in hand, he said, “Goodnight, Jack. Love you.”

**********************

23

Jack

Once the playoffs started, time compressed and telescoped in weird ways. Game days seemed to take forever until the puck dropped, then it was time to play, and each shift seemed like its own day, but the game was over in the blink of an eye.

Off days were for sleeping and eating and time with the trainers.

For eight days, Jack’s interactions with Bitty were limited to texts – an encouraging note before every game, a congratulatory text after the wins, a commisterating text after their one loss to the Blues – and a handful of phone calls. There were also the glimpses of Bitty Jack caught at the home games, behind the net Sully minded in the first and third periods.

Just knowing he was there settled something in Jack and made it easier to play.

Once, on the day off after the Game 3 loss, Jack texted Bitty when he knew he’d be off work and said, _Tell me about something that happened at the bakery?_

Bitty called and went on for nearly an hour, talking about what sounded like a not-very-serious series of conflicts between Quinn and Thelma, over everything from his punctuality and dress to whether the orange-lavender scones were better than the red velvet cupcakes.

“I know, sweet pea, it makes no sense,” Bitty said. “They’re completely different foods. How can you compare? I think Quinn just likes to push back on Thelma to see what she’ll do.”

“What does she do?”

“Mostly shakes her head – and maybe a spatula – at him,” Bitty said. “And she’s not above picking at him, either. It’s like she’s the grandma he needs. He knows she’s in his corner, but she has high standards and she expects him to meet them. And he’s learning how to disagree and have fun with it instead of it being the end of the world.”

“How’s Quinn been with you?”

“A little standoffish,” Bitty said. “Which I’m telling myself is not necessarily a bad thing. I did tell him that my personal life isn’t his business, and I think he’s embarrassed.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, sweet pea, it’s not your fault,” Bitty said. “And I honestly think it would be worse if I did the whole ‘I’m flattered but we can’t do this’ thing. Better make him just think I can be an asshole of a boss.”

“You think he’ll quit?” Jack asked.

“I hope not,” Bitty said. “I do like him, and he’s good at his job. And he does really like Thelma. I think I’m going to see if she wants to increase her hours and be an official manager. She can open some days, and then maybe I can join a beer league for hockey.”

“Yeah? You miss it?”

“More than I realized until I got on the ice with you.”

“Some of the guys want to play some shinny with you once the season’s over,” Jack said.

Because while he was able to get the ice with Bitty, he hadn’t been able to get any privacy. Bitty was a little rusty – he couldn’t beat Jack in an all-out race any more, but it was close – but he was still more agile on his skates than just about anyone in the league, and Foxy and Marcus were impressed

“Let’s hope that’s a long time,” Bitty said.

When he hung up, Jack said “Love you,” before Bitty could get the words in first.

Knowing Bitty was watching even at home helped, and the Aeros won Game 4 in St. Louis.

With a three-games-to- one lead, Jack texted Bitty.

_Can I leave you a dressing room pass for after the game tomorrow?_

The reply took a few minutes.

_Are you sure?_

_Yes,_ Jack said. _Win or lose. You don’t have to stay long, but I miss seeing you._

_Ok,_ Bitty replied.

Now the game and the series were over and media was done. Jack showered quickly and returned to see Bitty standing by his stall, deep in conversation with Marcus.

“If you give me a recipe, I’ll see if I can make it,” Bitty was saying. “I might have to figure out where to source some of the ingredients, though.”

“Hi there,” Jack said.

“Hi yourself,” Bitty said. “Congrats on that sweet goal in the third. Marcus invited us to go out with some of the team. What do you say?”

Jack hesitated. He’d like to have Bitty to himself, but this was a team win.

“Sure,” he said. “One drink?”

“One drink,” Bitty said. “That’s all you ever have anyway.”

Marcus grinned.

“Jack never comes out with us,” he told Bitty. “You have a good influence on him.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Bitty said.

“I am,” Foxy said. “Guy almost never smiled until you showed up.”

“I was here all the time,” Bitty said.

Jack dressed quickly and headed out with Bitty after getting the address of where they were going, a small bar where they’d likely be left alone.

“You sure you don’t mind?” Jack asked.

“Thelma’s opening tomorrow,” Bitty said. “I’m tired, but I’m good for one drink. You can take me home then if you want, or I’ll get an Uber.”

“I’ll take you home,” Jack said. “It’ll be a good excuse to leave.”

The bar was different with Bitty there, or maybe Jack was different with Bitty there. He ordered a beer and nursed it for a half hour, and mostly listened to Bitty talk to his teammates. Fox had Deborah with him; a few other guys had significant others, too. Having Bitty at his side seemed to make the rest of the team treat him like one of the old married guys. Which was better than being an old pathetic loser.

Maybe it was more that he’d been thinking of himself that way.

Bitty finished telling Deborah something about a birthday party he had catered – they wanted purple ponies? And glitter on the cupcakes? – and set his empty glass on the bar.

“Want another?” Jack said.

“Lord, no,” Bitty said. “I’m about falling asleep standing here. Take me home, Mr. Zimmermann.”

**********************

24

Bitty

Bitty could hear Jack in the kitchen while he toweled off from his shower.

Jack had put the dinner dishes away — probably leaving the plates on the counter for breakfast because he was efficient like that — and was grinding the coffee. In five minutes, the aroma would fill the small apartment and Bitty could have his first cup while he made breakfast and Jack showered.

In the weeks since Jack’s playoffs had ended with a Game 7 loss in the conference finals, they’d fallen into a routine on Bitty’s days off. Jack would come over the night before and they’d eat in — especially when Jack was still sulking — or go out. Jack would stay over. No matter how long they stayed in bed after they woke up, Jack actually got out of bed first to start coffee.

Bitty would shower first and get breakfast going while Jack showered. They had agreed early on that as appealing as the idea of showering together was, it just wasn’t practical in the shower cubicle in Bitty’s tiny bathroom.

Bitty knew Jack would be keeping that in mind when they looked at condos for him today.

Because that’s what they were doing: looking at a condo for Jack, not one for Jack-and-Bitty. Bitty would keep his apartment until the end of his lease in six months. Then he might renew the lease or, look for a bigger place (the bakery was doing really well). After another six months or a year, well, maybe they would look for a new home together.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t spend time at your place,” Bitty assured Jack. “I’ll even try to take off two days in a row more often if you want. But our schedules are so different it’s not that convenient anyway, and I just feel like I need my own space.”

Jack hadn’t disagreed; Bitty thought Jack would have agreed to anything he asked, which could become a problem, but for now, things were good.

Jack had already agreed to a contract extension with the Aeros despite having to take a cut in pay to do it.

“Call it a hometown discount,” Jack said.

“You literally moved here three months ago and you don’t have a home yet.”

“Fine, make me face reality,” Jack said. “It’s an ‘I’m way on the wrong side of thirty’ contract.”

Whatever it was, it was still more money than Bitty had ever hoped to see, at least before he started hanging out with professional athletes.

Jack said he wanted Bitty’s help picking out a place and decorating it, even if Bitty didn’t live there.

“Your place feels like a home,” Jack said. “I mean, it feels like home to me because you’re here, but I think it would feel comfortable and lived in to anyone.”

Jack also said he planned to have all the kitchen equipment shipped from Providence.

The past few weeks had been good, better even than Bitty had hoped. Thelma was taking some of the pressure off at work, and Jack was coping with the new city and living arrangements. He hadn’t actually found a therapist in Houston until the playoffs were over, but he did work with both Sydney and the Aeros staff to find someone who was capable of helping an athlete in a high-pressure environment with an anxiety disorder and a history of overdose.

He and Bitty spent some time socializing with the team and its circle – Bitty hit it off especially well with Deborah, Foxy’s wife – but since Bitty had a history and a community here already, they weren’t his only social outlet.

Jack had traveled to Madison with him for the Fourth of July, and endured a surprisingly cold shoulder from Mama and Coach until Bitty took them aside and said “We both had a part in what happened before, and we’re trying again, it would be much easier for everyone if you could be nice.”

After that, they’d been at least polite, but it gave Bitty pause when he thought about Bob and Alicia’s visit to see Jack’s new place at the end of the month.

Which meant Jack had to have a new place, and Bitty had better get a move on.

Bitty finished slathering himself with moisturizer (SPF 30) and finger-combing product through his hair while Jack was grinding coffee.

He wrapped his towel around his waist and stepped towards the kitchen, only to come face-to-face with a wide-eyed Mandy.

“Oh my God I am so sorry,” she said, frozen in front of the open front door.

Bitty moved forward far enough to see into the kitchen and saw what had her jaw on the floor. Jack hadn’t bothered with clothes when he went to make the coffee, since he was going to shower later and dress anyway. He was efficient that way. Mandy had probably gotten a full-on view of that magnificent ass when she opened the door, and then Jack had turned …

Now he was standing in profile, with a potholder covering his genitals.

“I knocked but you must not have heard me,” Mandy said. “I think the grinder was going. But, really, Eric, didn’t you even lock your door last night? Didn’t your mama teach you better?”

“We might have been a little busy last night,” Bitty said. “Why don’t you come back in twenty for breakfast? Bring Jeni. I promise we’ll be clothed.”

“Uh, sure,” Mandy said. “We just wanted to see if you guys wanted to go to that new farmers market.”

“Come back when we’re dressed and we’ll talk about it,” Bitty said, following her to the door and clicking the lock as soon as it closed.

Bitty turned to Jack.

“I’m sorry, sweet pea,” Bitty said. “I must have forgotten to turn the lock. I didn’t mean to put you in that position.”

“It’s okay,” Jack said, but he was still pink. “A lot of people have seen me without clothes.”

Bitty came up behind him and put his arms around Jack’s waist.

“But I’m the only one who gets to do this,” Bitty said.

“You are,” Jack said. “But you said twenty minutes until breakfast.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Bitty said. “Go shower. I’ll get dressed and cook.”


End file.
